Nettle House Poem by Paramananda Mahanta

Nettle house

The digs of everynight,
In the spread sheet of life.
You choose the door to enter,
When no one in the sight.

The latch opens below the door,
The ghosts of life come and go.
No bondage no ties relation cries,
But hues of beauties never shies.

Soul baths in the ovens like salted nuts,
True smiles hide with incoming ghosts.
The more liife blends the more it dives,
Deep and deep but pitchy it finds.

Now they tell me such a scary things,
How life and fate lost their wings.
Most of peace is missed in a few retreat,
Tried and failed a whole life treat.

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Paramananda Mahanta
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