Spice of Life

What a life be; if without a tint packed with spices All spices high and mild; nostrils filled with its aroma Whether flow with the Ganga colliding the bourn, Or sang with the chirping of the Sparrow sitting on the roofline, The hot spicy heat prickle of the Ghost Pepper Chilli cuddling the tongue The wild breeze nudges the chest while walking on the land of Sohra, What a life be; if without a tint packed with spices All spices add a pinch; just like sugar and salt an Indian lore Add spices to the game and flaws Add spices to the love and lust Add spices to death and conquer Add spices to lives and victories What a life be; if without a tint packed with spices Critters born and die; but good and bad is inscribed in their graves Spice are harvest and contained; but the tale of aroma Begins from my kitchenette and voyaging across the overseas