An ordinary poem.

So long decayed me.

I am not the same as I once had been.

Left like crash into a Dustbin.

Past says nothing of my future,

Rather portrays a complete picture of my mistakes and failure.

The next rise of mine.

It will be like a month without a year,

A season without a stir.

For it was never of time or place.

Moreover like searching for a sun in space.

So long my decayed me,

So long my destroyed piece.