A month to be called upon, of spring,
When birds chirp, rains within,
Time where the year just goes so slow,
Fast life, more sorrows, smile in making.
Half way the year, still nothing,
Festivals, colors, life lived again,
Some want year to end, some begin,
To retaliate the wrong done, a sin.
Every time some meet, some betray,
A month of pain and love though, grey,
To look back, at the sun which shone,
They have to walk the path, so chilled.
A new hope, a new memory, time clean,
We have a second chance, always keen,
This time make it, or break it hard,
Don’t shout, just silently complete the task.