Days of long travail now ending,
They deluged you in their high tides,
A passive trance held you inside,
You fear of all twists impending,
And great tornadoes transcending,
You pick up all scattered pieces,
Smoothening all life’s deep creases,
New beginnings set to take birth,
And of smouldering zest,no dearth,
For ardent hope never ceases.
theindieshe 