Monday, July 5, 2010


The spring of life is by far over,
And frolic, I suppose is lost for ever.

The green meadows have turned yellow,
Like the spirits that are shallow.

The autmn seems to be drawing near,
With the most exuberent Pine turning bare.

Soon, The Death will quell me, I fear,
And that too without the wet eyes of a parting dear.

But still th hope is high,
That the birds will chirp and fly,
The showers will make the peacocks dance,
And YES, life will give me a second chance.

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