Sorrow and pain from our life are not far away
Pain seldom dissolves often appears and sways
Taste of tears now and then ever ready  to betray
Life often strucks down by some or other cause
Sympathetic understanding of suffering oppression
Asserts in the name of liberation ending in depression
And we feel human spirit is irrepressible
Personal dilemmas become rather universal
Massive conflicts of our life reflect in our behavior
Interwoven experiences ostensibly covers manners
And injustice and exploitation wait for suitable savior

Dusty tracks touch the life's flowing river
River that passes through situation's rugged rocks to empower
On the shore of incident's river bed burned pyres of throttled love that suffers
Mute pathos of crimson dreams in the eyes buffer
Walls of emotions emit feelings to discover
Souls try to witness festive moods lighter
But granites of thoughts with fears shiver
Naked trees around life's circumference, whose leaves quiver
Exhausted hopes rock like shadows to rediscover
Whispering butterflies fly with sweetness to shower
And laughter reverberates at our life's land of sorrows with veil to cover

Out side the old white house
Where silence squeaks and there runs a big mouse
An old mango tree with sad look stands
A grey gate totally rusted without latches strand
They tell innumerable stories of fate grand
Old woman still sits with needle and wool busy in knitting
Stares at her stray brown dog nearby sitting
The rusted Iron bars of gate keep creaking
Something or other suffer a fall and goes on breaking
Old man is trying to tidy his faded garden
With it he is happy as in aden
Roots are scattered and the seeds battered
Weeds lay flattered, wild mushrooms gathered
Pelmets of old torn curtains clinging to windows
Helmets of thatched  roof witness rainbow

Often the blue ink filled pen slips and clings to nib the words
Scribs scripts even or unevenly moving outwards
Evaporates with loose ends and spreads in the form of sentences
It's inky cobwebs gaping like a spider hangs hither thither
Tilted to a particular degree leaving in midway flight
Expressions without puncturing silence maintain their  fight
In vain, in this vein writers go for fishing  for compliments

String of similes are seemed dipped in the writings
And wring out to articulate their essence in lure by inviting
Writings live in with the authority of license
And spread everywhere their fragrance
With their world loaded with metaphors
Sentiments of authors are attentuated by spirit
Emotions are fiterated beyond limit
And their writing sprouts from the womb of silence

Walls of passion build up in our life are quite strange
Either the wall raises higher looking estranged
Or becomes shorter in structure sometimes enraged
Wall of passion acts blind and reverberates our emotions
Infatuated by the nakedness of sentiments and its notion
The wall with the circumstances 's wheel is in motion
Like insects crawling over the grass, wall of passion gets embarrassed by the crawling of love