After long time, I thought of posting a poem from my archives.
In this jaded night,
when the sky has been smeared with pale clouds.
And I stand under,
infront of the white tides,
Which are struggling to reach my feet.
Dying at the shores; they are so weak.
The silent sea says 'watery' words,
Much like the tearful eyes of a hungry child.
The phlegmatic wind also has something to say,
But it's on its course.
Still! I sit on the sands,
Building my castle.
A gush comes and retreats after demolition;
O nature! The world is so fickle.