MUSIC

You are the Music of
My Soul,
Ticks over the Strings of
Eternal home.                                                                              

Seasons tease different notes
That subordinate
In the body of
Conscious Soul.

Is it the Color of perfection?                                    
Or the Color of hope?
That arrange Puzzles
In one tone.

Winds playing, at the front door
Giving messages in codes.
Watch starts watching its moments of
Easy moves
That is hard to pass
In the wait of Lost Card...                                                  SMRITI THAKUR