Drawing A bead on

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Drawing A bead on

The girl at last made outcries to protect her,
Inside the hole of the terrorists,
In the wake of a race with the trunk of the tree,
As if the side creepers never permit her to do.
She was entangled and visualised towards,
The man who was running but stabbed to death,
The girl could not move for her attitudes,
The leaves of the trees were displaced;
 In the air and the meadow underneath,
In the deep seated rock for everlasting precision.
Humans dwell on earth for fraternity and love,
But the girl is deviated from the social ties,
In the wake of dark grey light, her appearances,
Seems to be deceptive in the sense that she sprinkles,
Her image in the dried rosy flower in the trodden sickles
For everlasting reflections of light in the moonlit,

In the sky to be laden bright hereinafter.