Pavithra Sahadevan

Is it the mist, that takes out the view? ? ?
Is it the war, that makes me impaired? ? ?
Is it the wind, that pushes me down? ? ?
Is it the snow, that brings in the cold? ? ?
...

The journey starts,
With the new faces around,
Things to be looked at,
Its a lime in and out,
...

The dark deep woods stare at her arrival,
With the feathers on,
A careful watch!
...

Its the shell that rings,
Which plays with the sand,
A lady towards the sea!
...

Insecurity fills in,
When something hits hard,
Be it a stranger or an aquaintance!
...