Walking past in the silent world of beauty and heaven,
She knows her work in motion and hurdles;
Never hesitating through the rains and the clouds
In moving behind the shadow and perils of earth.
She remains happy by her unusual courage;
To speak the truth in capsize haze and relies
To switch the darkened cloud of the storm.
She walks past all along in the glowing streams
Underneath the big shades of the banyan tree
As if the mother of all the child in the earth
And the beams of light not under coercive strength.
What she sees and explores in front of her
She is moving in her way to have bliss
Upon the supplication she always does.
She becomes remorse and dilapidated
When she hears the destitute of a motherless baby
Her sorrows knows no bounds
As if her heart always renders to restore the life of the
child.
She is second to none to roll her tears
When sadness, pains and death stirs her.
Like the crying voice of a helpless child
Telling of goodness to bliss her fortitude.
No comments:
Post a Comment