Now we call our Sparrows back
When last of them have gone away
Callous, not cruel and indifferent
That’s what we were, till yesterday
Looking out of that empty window
Now we close our eyes, to see
Sparrows hopping and chirping about
After they have flown to eternity
What will we do when all are gone
Our Myhnas, Bees and Butterflies?
How would we lament and blame whom
When the last little flower dies?
No comments:
Post a Comment