How do I find you our nature’s song In the din that man has created? Chirrups are clouded by whirring fans, Muffled by burring engines. Rustling leaves have a fever today, Sea is mourning a demise, Rivers no longer gush Without fishes to rush to
Walking in, Walking out Of their wretched lives, People are crowd Who don’t stand out; They hum the same song, And shoehorn all along, Till they feel safe amongst each other, And don’t bother About anyone’s radar, Not even for a man, Who sits quietly
Do you go to bed to eat your day? To make your misery go away? Or because your eyelids fall Whenever you try to stay awake? Are you waiting for a point in time To snooze yourself till you reach there? But all the unpleasantness