The Beggar's Night

The July monsoon night has long begun Up! The creepy night celebrates with stars When I lay my griefs on these closed street doors With my brave rags and weak hope I live on. When they are busy avoiding their sleep I am fearing for where I shall remain To avoid well-dressed late night beasts' disdain And truthful squad's well thrown eulogy's heap. I pour everything on street to heal And hardly think that morning will cure me. As spring is only for a seasoned tree So with me, season has nothing to deal. But some thoughts of comfort now knock at me "Our nights were dreamt with soil. Mine is plastered!" -Ah! The thoughts, everything is shattered For the moon with clouds play hide-seek, in glee. Storms sweep houses but these clouds storm my heart Weak hope dwells like forged rupees on my bowl And all of sudden like the love of fowl Betray me within this nice rich desert.