Tradesmen have hit the hay
like babies in their cradles
I am left with tears flood
And cheeks seem shoreless,
Straight falling upon dry earth
Yeh! Tears are but who cares!
I am beseeching nights
To find my beloved, left me here;
Till the brim are two goblets filled
In two hands clasped to judge
One owes poison, other wine
The Author, Ali Muhammad hails from Bemina, Srinagar, Kashmir. He is doing M.A English literature from SDS University, Uttrakhand. He has been an amorist of the natural beauty, penning down poetically since 2012. He is of the view that Man himself turns the journey as well as journeyer of this cosmos, providing that, he obliterates rust in his way and forges a plan with flamboyance.