Birth Is Being Written By Death

Life is in touch with living - I was groping me… Wetness and dryness were known- I felt so It was a mistake, I am wrong For the rightness, I searched. With the thing that was found by me I screamed that it was right. Though it was a lie I propagated that it was right. In spite of knowing that there will be truth, despite I do not have that I move on haphazardly rather awkwardly. ‘Being right is not right at all’- concluded I To be on safe side I roared vigorously. I announced me as I am. But from me I slipped away somewhere, long time back. Life is in touch with living- Birth is being written by death.