In the depressing fold of Time
Man has to remain in mind's long hibernation
Engulfed in foggy blankets
With apathetic torpor
Despite the frequent trepidation
Of the half-dead earth.
He waits and waits till the death of dark nights
When the rays win over the smog
Day opens its big eyes--
The ball of fire
Rolling in the stooping sky
From the dark dusk to the bright dawn.
In the refreshing fold of Life
Man feels delighted, rejuvenated from within
Following the footprints of the light
Picking up the glowing meaning
From all dark moments,
Scattered in hazy maizes, wrought by Time.