cherassery damodaran binish Biography

Why you crying, O' my little child
Rose bloomed is yours, sure not wild
Sparrows chirping lovely, is for you
Stars twinkling for you, is not new.
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Stars, shining in the sky....
Candles lit in the houses
Of the angels up above high
Giving hope to our senses.
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What is life after death?
Is a miracle for every one
Some believes to go to hearth
If devilish act has done.
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Clear glass like water
In it the swimming fish
Like the ideas........
Sometimes, it shows its beauty
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Of the last among the twelve
Is the December, a mermaid
When our memories starts to delve
Of her beauty before a fade.
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