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
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