By Kishan Gopal Shahu
betrothed mountains Little chrome
Blue black apron and wearing crown
Somewhere roads bowed to them
And yet somewhere went through them
Chimneys high enough that they have to peep from the sky
still not as high as mighty him
Beautiful is the scene
Rails go down sometimes and sometimes up above us
Open fields ain't open in real;Greener than green
Flora they have ;our garden seems frivolous
don't be wondered if illlness they surely heal
There's dam as eyes moves down
Believe this the only fear I feel
What if me might drown
Yet from a distance mile away
see it looks beautiful
He is still crowning him and he sway
Diminishing his blue to chromful
Open fields are open now
And 4 feet keep through him one side and fields the other side
Whenever roads turned me feared they might take me away now
Surely they does to take us it's backside
For a moment to other beautiful places
Where live the like of us
Believe me or not ;by nothing would he be replaced
If this is beauty ,mined mountains
Surely there is heaven under feet it seems
By Kishan Gopal Shahu
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