Year

The last breath of December In midnight I saw on its lap a cheerful, chilly winter Basking amidst crackers, melodies and dances of pleasure Seemed youngsters in indulgence with fervor Upon accommodating a new guest Of glamour and enticement And veterans mused over Murmuring the sigh of a withering flower And in the morn I saw a rose blooming like a morning sun The petals of which fell one by one Till from nature's bower I picked up one Where in her purple and angelic face I could see Myself and this world Wrapped up in time's graveyard