It was a dead fly caught,
In the spider's web,
Or the web hanging,
From the uncleaned window pane.
I was in the country that had,
Much less population,
And there would be,
The enormous silence,
From quite early in the night.
I was feeling terribly nervous,
Of lonliness while studying,
Upto late night.
Then, I used to keep looking,
At the dead fly that was only,
My company in my environ,
And in that exsparation,
I did not clean the web,
For nine months that I was there,
And felt really very good,
That I got company of,
The nature's awesome creation,
Since, I was not used to keeping,
Photos of my people in my wallet,
And was not keeping the,
Greetings cards on my desk,
Or I didn't believe in,
Keeping any idols.
The spriritless fly incited,
Sufficient spirit in my dry world,
And perhaps that is why,
Many believe in burrying,
And preserving the dead bodies,
Of their dear and loved ones,
We cannot live without,
Some kind of duality,
That seems to be the nature's,
Own game plan and ploy.
*****
