“Somewhere the shine of my shroud”
Some burnt, some were burnt
Some were bitten, some buried
I could not find the right ground
Removed name in my incomplete
There was a time! Used to be my name
Only a few hours were used for the right, special
I had a nightmare, on the palms of my palaces
There were four hours in my life, in my representation
Used to be in my simplicity
There is a time today! Lying in the graveyard alone
Do not know who keeps waiting for?
Some are sitting on the front of my grave
Ink on stone, something is eroded
Marble from the white on my chest
Got lost
Dried leaves flying through the waves of wind, which are eager to cover
Dust storms
I am going to be confronted with
Still, there is a worry that hurts me
Somewhere my clothes do not get spoiled
Somewhere my heart may not be spotted
Somewhere the shine of my shroud does not wear out.
“Eklavya”
life is bitter true
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