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.