My Room
Butterflies,flowers, grapes and leaves dancing in the rhythm of air, Those badminton rackets hung in the corner, older than me, still remain as new And my scribblings and quotes that mama complains, outshine in their brilliant colours in the wall. My clock's tickings and fan's humming helps me with white noise, when I study Through the open window, I could see, the lights of a distant home In the table lay the candles, ink bottle, and all sort of things from needle to scissors find their place peacely. Books remain as an unavoidable component, The more I avoid them, the more they occupies the space, Millions and billions of words, dazzling like stars over the roof, And I enjoy the aroma of these constant companions. Imprints of my hand with the name of the Creator in its heart, And the outline of my shadow, make my room stupid in some swiftly thoughts, But I believe they will hold me there in the vastness of time. And my bed , it's cozzy blankets and my pillow, comforting