You wished me my years bounty with heavens, but why?
Waited so many years for my evening sky
to speak to me
and today what happened,
you burnt my green jungles,
blew hurricane in my heart.
I have to recount the ages
that were elongated in your hurrying hand.
Would you listen to a tale of a river
that never met the ocean;
huh you give a damn.
You know, when you left,
they consoled me showing the thorns grown
on your tongue and body.
Who would convey them
that I had craved for those red roses only.
You held the hand that was stronger and stout,
indeed you were practical as you are today.
Long ago I certainly had lost the heaven
and abhorred this very rational world.
Nice one