with millions of stars, the sky looks pompous,
i wonder where they get the radiant motive to shine,
while my own star, my heart, is all dried up,
soaked by the rough pores in rust, formed by emptiness,
even the crack of dawn and the creek of dusk could be heard,
and to share them there is none,
i think, i ponder, i wonder and i would,
give up anything to be one of those in the sky,
that shine away innocence,
unaffected by the whiplashes of fate.
Oh! I would trade everything to be one of them,
never pale, ever smiling, just as everyone wants.
Tweet me at @sankarajayanth.