- hashtagkalakar
Albatross
By Ashish Priyadarshi
Must shall I pluck the weeds
off my garden apace.
I owe them no mercy,
sure shall they bring disgrace.
Steady shall I stand,
to guard the crumbling fence.
Sweat shall I drain,
to quench the parching land.
Skin shall I burn,
to shadow the maturing buds.
Must shall I let them rot,
make them serve manure.
Then shall I rest,
when blossoms my labour.
By Ashish Priyadarshi