The Waves

The approaching night is leaning on 

The half lit lamp post 

light of civilization is mingling

With the last light of the day

I am waiting for the sweet words to hear

Waiting... waiting...

Seconds turning me old

Thoughts have voices like seabirds

Have warning wings

The old age is coming..hurry

Love ..love..

The bondages are calling 

With a sudden jerk the sweet voice

Pearse the ears

A bunch of waves are roaring now

They have their voice

Just go ahead

Nowhere is the old age

 The starry sky, vast sea, open meadows 

All are sketching the freedom

In the the lovely sea beach of life.