Universal Learning House

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.

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 snake 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 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 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 boy stood on the corner of the street To have bliss of solitude under the greenwood shades He has lots of dues to repay In the empty vessel he has nothing to do. Before leaving he has hopes to aspire A midst of dreams he has to go ahead But no means he has been abandoned By the society and the kith and kin He has no offense but being insulted His guilt was to bring reforms In the family hazards to switch over. He is truthful in the sense he hates All sorts of undue activists existed Not in one circle but widely he roams; To have bliss of solitude beyond hue and cry. The boy ponders over day and night To be devoted from the social beings In the actions of reforms to drive the evils In tones of the race of life. A big banyan tree besides the great memoir He lies down to have   happy and prosperous day. To go into the depth of the sea Where the common critics never see again.

The Dying Woman She was standing for long days and hour Waiting for the future hopes to live She was drowning losing her sole soul. It was skimming to close her eyes like death As if fortune has favored her bowing down Her head being brave rather than being forsaken. The trees, plants and varieties of herbs Influence for the pangs of new life ahead. The sun has left her as if thrown in the dark The nature never forgives her assaulting The humans and the lives clattering Underneath the meadow and the earth Who have love and friendship even In the lower animals sparingly stretched To notify others in the hopes for survival. The birds and other lizards are uprising Here and there to have the soil and beds To cover up the body and the soul Together with the roasting downpour In the humidity cluster of sharpened world.