Call me up

Niksh Aadhar, running away, Dhumketu, astrological star,
nothing has ever been drawn,
Niyan light rain fed wet night, how much -
nowadays he does not even come.
One of the coolest and most beloved heroes hiding in a haste, the heroes in the top of the show - that's a big pale,
house and office, barricades from ten to five watches -
this domestic life is absolutely one-sided.
People who are well-liked and well-liked, sometimes even strangers seem to be
unknowingly, tasteless, uneven cups of cold water in unnao cups.
I know the path, but the half-a-half of this path seems unaware ,
the tree of four-palm trees and the branches of bacillus
birds in the branches of the disease are continuing.
As long as the writing does not call the blue
collar of the diary, and the dust is on its surface, it should be born and unworthy.
In the corner of the room, night, not only in the corner of the room, but in the corner of the house, just
looking at the vacuum, without counting the amount of life, in the
middle of the night, the happiness of not getting the cigarette packets caught in the middle of the night,
a bitter taste filled with tasty filters , filled with tasteless.
The bitter feeling like the river is spreading like bitter
water; Nature also
does not give oxygen to the heart,
it is becoming poisonous. Hemoglobin is becoming poisonous, the air becomes heavy, the
eyes come in fatigue, the eyes disappear, the wet hair just sweet hair, and the sweet fragrance of wet hair.
The night is a long time, the guard
has heard the moment
that they have come to hear sleeping songs in this unknown city, as they continue to sing 'Income Sleep Income', continuing to say,
I am disturbed by the sound of many hours.
I am still jumping out of the song
Zhi Zi Pokaya,
Shayuli Phule Dhaka Path and Jochana wet night is calling me.