One day,
I saw her,
I felt that she was like my spirit,
If I was gun powder,
She was the fire,
And
I thought,
If we met
We could make a dynamite.
On the other day,
We met,
Made dyanmites too,
But,
No one knew,
When,
One of from those dynamites,
Cracked into our own hut,
And everything was turned into dessert.
© Krishna Katyayan 2018
