Crest of a Night-dream

A piece of paper

Came floating on the wind

I read my name on it

And the piece engulfed me.

 

One Step to the Heavens

Creates A mile towards Hell

'Cause both are absent

And are present here itself.

 

Growing are always the weeds

Who cares about Water and Fertilizers and Sun

For the tender roses though

This is never enough!