With duvets of stars, flickering out of clouds
And the gleaming moonlight
Halt to calm bright sunlight
The birds high,
Surfing the ocean of clouds
Turns back to shore
On the trunk of oak.
The diminished lamps
along the avenues
Enlighten with faith to overcome
The darkness of darkest night.
And there along the same street
Were the lonely hearts
Pumping the oxygenated blood
Tasteless of love.
Few of them were broken
While few were on its verge
They wish to stay in dark
Where inebriation is a urge
Who are they without their name?
It's nothing, just a game of fame
Whosoever will survive from dusk to dawn,
Will own the heart and the crown.
Soon the bizzare sun will rise
Fading the miniatures stars
The devil mind will laugh
Over the helpless sinking hearts...
~Praful Maheshwari