It is a day serene
the sky, not in a sheen
grey and black at times
there being no chime
the sun sits back quiet
not involved in anything tight
the clouds are dark and intense
hover they with a fight in a sense
a mislead to a night in trace
Well, in turn that is a sure base
it seems so destitute and silent
as I sit with a gaze in a trident
my mind is heavily bent
it does suffer a serious dent.
Lo! my eyes need a rest
to see all the best.
Meenas Poems 