Dead people arise from their deadly graves,
asking for forgotten boons which i gave.
Slowly i drift from my dear ones:
who's more dearer i know none.
A sound mind remembers events past
Insane though like a ship without mast
Its prow wavering along the current..
Life bears marks of wounds permanent.
Here or there, where do i stand?
Cast away alone, waiting for thy hand...
wrote this in a very bad mood... few days back.. Like a kutti kannan my son makes me smile with his pranks ...to change whatever mood it is... he was away from me for quite some time..Now he has come to pull me out of computer..