The moment that I never forget

The last passenger that I found in the train
Sitting in a corner inside the compartment
Laden with a heavy load of plantains
she was looking with fiery look
As if she had killed some one.
I came closer and asked her where she was hailing
She did not reply and stood motionlessly.
She had golden curly hair looking gloomy
In her presence of flame of fire on the mood
Of she was thinking in the way where
she was looking beside the nature\
And the garden underneath the sky.
The train stopped, she got down.
Before leaving she crossed the last post.
Her body was redden with blood
After committing suicide in a homage
Like gadding away in the depth of
The meadow and the plants
Through the woodland she was lying motionless.

The last post

After long waiting beside the lake
She became helpless as if she was
Not being responded in the shallow
For the silent sound in the solitary woodland.
The virgin came here in the moon lit night
Glittering and twinkling over the waves
In the watery chain of the sea weed.
She was alone in the meadow herein;
In the sunshine rays like being fallen.
Over the water lily prying into
As if the foes always guard against her
On the side of the lake inside the shades
The thing that never fades
The nature that comes to her
For everlasting growth in the idea of
real life being laden as if fallen asleep
In the race of sanctifying plants and trees
Where a burnt child touches her    
On slow motion as if slowly visits her..

The street children

He has no idea about life
Which is either filled luxury
Or with sorrows fallen in the street
He has no living house
Always pitiful to see other boys
Playing and laughing in the field
Always remorse and dilapidated
With torn shirt and dirty glamour;
As if blessed naturally to eat and drink
The nature cares them when lies
Underneath the big banyan tree.
Once a snake bit his leg
A stream of blood was yelling out
There is none to see his well beings
Still deathbed bed in the hole
of the snakke where he has no shades
In the peaceful solitary house of a little comfort.
In the shapes to die hereinafter
For sole loneliness and die.
In the wake of  the street children
None in the field or in the room
Where a drop of water never touches
Even in the gloomy look
Through walking in the soul of dead
Once seen in the great dustbin
from where never seen again on the street.

The hungry crow

The crow sat on a wall with its greedy look
As if to snatch the piece of meat
From a boy who was about to swallow it.
The crow jumps upon the head of the boy
The boy having got the slight injury
The piece of meat was fallen on the ground
The crow then took the meat
And flew over the head of the wretched boy.
It was his stern look;
To see the fatal consequences
Of the crow fallen on the ground
As it took the poison from the meat;
It is the eternal feeling of the bird.
It has dirty look but on the upper eye
To have freshness and vigours of mind
In the sense to show the actions lagging behind.