Final Station

Life is like a train, it goes from light to dark then to light,

It faces the drag forces yet reaches to final site,

In between there is a hell of journey,

Of pride, of sacrifice, of patience and anxiety,

In between you loose, you win, you face,

While chirping you make memories in a race,

Some beautiful, some thoughtful, some painful,

But in that you have the hell of empty and full!

Still life never stops before the final break (brake),

As you live for yourself or a sake!

I still have the freedom…

Yes, I still have the freedom to express myself,

To flaunt my beauty and mingle around ourselves,

After a longtime, we all are free,

To feel our sky again, to cross the open spree,

Unable to understand, why the humans are all locked,

They use to craft the cage, but we see them framed,

No big birds capturing my sky,

All dissolved but we don’t know why,

We heard someone whispering about their conditions,

Till humans are murmuring many evasions,

Some says the karma, some says the calamity,

Whatever they did, we pray for their safety!

Seethe

Relying on ice, can melt the trust,

As it rides on hot, it can be the tryst.

Wax bows for every change which surpass,

The human satire and attire is like brass.

Go Goa

Goa, India

Beaches are just like human beings,

Always have two views of seeings,

One from left, one from right,

But it is much more from center sight.

To lift the build, to pillar the walls

Newness holds the bark side, Newness holds the rawness,

Just like a phase of life, needs to be flawless,

Every sweat, every tear, every rush of blood,

Pillar holds the walls, even at the flood,

Just like a dream for some, just like a home for one,

Newness holds the pulse of everyone!