Golden splendor of the moon,drawn on the night sky.
Stolen from the sun,but neither is he proud.
It is just the burning of his inner spirit into flames.
The curly waves that ocean wears,
a wonderful creation of moving breeze.
But even the breeze is not the master of his helm.
Nothing can beat the smiling rose with her dark red wings.
Oh poor she! Her very own weapon has betrayed her.
Left her alone making her crying in a fading white dress.
Every corner,if looked closer,filled with reflections of that eternal truth.
Nothing lasts,not even the pain of losing.
When even the ‘ownership’ does not really own a meaning,
Why bother? Why greedy?
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