In the holy temple of my mother’s womb so calm,
I was singing all alone a lonely psalm,
Her unconditional love protected me from every harm,
Her love had given me all the soothing balm.
Whosoever has born must someday die,
I hope this may take some years to go by,
The cruel clutches of death none can defy,
Entombed in darkness, all alone I shall lie.
All the lights of the world and the darkness of the tomb,
In the desolate tomb or the mother’s sacred womb,
Alone in crowded world, in solitary confinement,
I am nothing but a perishable consignment.
Too afraid to take leaps from my mental prison,
The whole world is blurred from my field of vision,
Prejudices keep us locked up on different divisions,
We don’t want to listen to any reason.
Like a rusty object in the attic of forgotten things,
A lonely traveller awaits his soul to depart with it’s wings,
I am all alone just on my own,
Beating the gravel stricken streets of life letting out a groan.