That Nice Elderly Year

That nice elderly year

Lying on his death bed,

A fellow of our previous path

A willing caller to everyone’ longing;

His days were once lustrous

Evening, a rosy blonde,

When his hope was high

He weaved fanciful visual nights;

How he lavished his liberal hand

All the treasures in his possess?

I find his tiny traces in Apollo

Or vanishing lunar light,

As I have all praise, less to blame;

I thank God for past every moment

Love you for thy timely prick,

It’s all my choice

If I were a failure;

Now I can shun my greed and strife

As thou taught me a restful sleep,

To wake up for New Year morn

Sound in judgments,

Devoid of wasteful desire



Sandeep Kumar Mishra







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