They laughed and ran
A melodious song they sang…

Top notes of Bergamot
for lashes too tired…

They say soul is a temple.
Yet mine seemed so evil…

Her Divineness was called out,
She can do nothing they said…

The grimy rather tired rosary
waiting for resurrection…

Selfish and ruthless greed
Has enslaved all of us indeed…

Painted, polished and presented
Called it innovative and sold the rented…

In the heat of summer my mother is anxious…

The colours could no longer keep pace,
With the lord’s themes…

So often snipped in the bud,
Not allowed to take form and grow…

The leaves came scurrying down,
Each on his own…

Instilled in us since young,
The postulation of right and wrong…

The course of life as it goes by
Is nothing but a roller coaster ride…

The colours of Autumn,
swaying to and fro…

All weak, alone and depressed I stand,
No one will ever understand…