By Prisha Sarma
Here and there the wind goes hiding million
messages the future unfolds
leaves withering in the cold breeze
still the roots hold the big trees
In the gloomy night
still thriving showing no fright
there she goes scaring the campers near campsite
Onto the hills, brushing the grass
not discriminating the land mass.
with a roaring sound, here she goes
scaring the children, giving chills even to the crows
The serene view on the river
moon using it like a mirror
showing no fear the wind goes rear
Telling us how to take the flight
when there is no hope in the ray of light
By Prisha Sarma
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