Decaying Self

Old, wooden bridge will fall,

Sooner or later

Under which a poor old lady

Hungry, deprived:

Lives and thinks

To live for many more years

To come

In her home.....

Logs are cracking, Nails

Metal rods are already fallen

Into the depth of that stagnant water:

For many, many years-When

She was young 

Dashing and beautiful...

Still hungry and deprived

At the same place

In the same house:

Under the bridge; Decaying as she

For very long,

Under the thundering misery,

Next to that stagnant water 

With the bridge,

And decaying times!