On my own,
strings woven,
and seeds sown;
a fear of extinction.
In a ruptured wall,
creatures crawl;
melting of brass,
and breaking the glass.
Someone found a sinkhole,
near a catastrophe;
want to explode,
he is close.
Flash of thunder,
drum beating loud,
madness making raft.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
It is a sad predicament to be remedied with Indian spirit at the heart. and act by weeding out terrorist pests..