When I look at from the varendah
I saw only a green grass floor
on my table full of memoranda
my bed is behind the french door

I am alone standing how lonely!
sure it's not a tranquility
when my room will be homely?
future is unpredictablility

Longing for the day when we can be
marry and having a chat without a pause
while teaseing and tasting one candy
sometime doing a bit of faux pas

The cloud came down and sang me a song
Of the seas and mountains it landed on.
I asked about my home, whether it has seen,
It said, yes, there I have been,

The varendah is in bloom
And the roses  will bleed soon;

Excited, I inquired, if they asked about me
The cloud replied, they asked, who is she?

They see a man, wearing saffron,
Sitting alone in the varendah of a broken temple;
I, along with the temple, am a relic to them,
A past,
Significance faded to obscurity,
There to be looked and frowned upon.
They shun my beliefs and question my faith,
"Why do you believe?
How do you believe?"
They take my silence for cowardice,
My credence as foolish.
"I am a dandelion", I say, head high in pride,
"And He the wind that destroys my body,
Makes my soul infinite."
Their laughter demeans me.
Yet I stay strong,
Believe me, I do.

But sometimes,
On beautiful, lonely nights,
I just stare at the rock that you are,
And cry as faith eludes me.