Under the starry moonlit night,
Like a sea in wait to eat,
Bulbs too dwindle their light,
As gazed upon the burnt cheat.
Piercing shrieks as sharp bite,
Baba Baba, her piercing pain,
Even unknown to their unnoticed might,
As dripping sea her innocent eye.
Behold! Her frozen look and biting chill,
Even dared not to deter her,
Seemed to sung his elegiac line
As wrapped her with strong will,
And granted sanction by his divine wine…
Spotty shroud of her bosom,
Faint smile of her lips,
Taunted as if laughter of her wrinkled skin,
Known to her buried chasm,
Not his newly beautiful inn.
Become grave only after death,
As picketed streets in huge crowd.
Infant and insane to the world,
Yet might a horse in itself,
Under sheen glistened light!