In faraway wilderness
A region of desolation
Where there is no moisture
And the wind carries a stab.
Growth of plants in decline
Few dry leaves struggling to survive
Dust of waters gone into the sand
Blowing the skittles into your eyes.
Amid those melancholy shades of time
Still thoughts that taking birth
And each thought creating a world
Here and there and beyond in transit
When paid attention to dearth
To smell fragrance in the search.