Casual Connection

You certainly not in a good mood, So the morning-lustre beclouded; Even the trees never shedding hoods Also shrouding all the roads shed. You certainly not embellish yourself The day as if an anaemic patient; How poor! crunched, gobbled by elf; - Leaving hole too come out serpents. You surely not open your lotus-eyes; At high pleasure dancing shadow-witch Flapping wings blood-sucker bat flies... The world rolling towards the ditch. You haven't read any composition; The poets lost zeal of writing poems... The heavenly bodies stopped motion; Scattered on the dust despised gems. You certainly not stepped forward... The coiled roads now in hibernation; lying down torn bed dreaming cowards, The house itself would reach destination.