What Poet Blake would have thought
that made him to write his feelings

What Mulkraj Anand would have thought
that made him to write another feeling

But the lost child is still lost
searching for his home and salvation
in the bewildered world, the passion
looses its pace to identify the testimonial

Eyes swallow all tears of life
hollowness of sky has confined him
the echo of his turgent cry
whispers all in his ears

But no one is there to listen his cry

The suffocating vultures search for prey
divine soul asks to come on his way

The lost child is undecided
where to come and where to go
as if the river lost her way

Divulging time is fragment now
her aroma is lost in foggy weather
sensitizing blue has turned pale

Hunger and thirst are all relinquished
eye lids have for forgotten to shut the door

The lost child asks his future
to come and hold in hand

My soul is hovering like the lost child
being confined with gloomy of life