I stare at the moon
I gaze at the stars
I look at the sky
the one so pure and white
the other so small and bright
another so calm and wide
all the three hold me for long
as I sart to sing a song
from nowhere I hear the ding -dong
I am back into the real world
I could hear the chatter of words
could resemble a fight with sword
as you know words are incisive
could turn to be defensive
sharper than the daggers as all
extract not blood from the fall
demoralize the intent in short
distract more or less the thoughts
a not so good omen to witness
a diabolical mode to harness.
Meenas Poems 