Oh what can I say about the fire on the first of March

Which berths from the third eye and turns cupid to ash

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Burning on the fuel of the soul

Melting my heart

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Peering inside 

A smelted golden reflection...

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Of the kohl lines​

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Tracing the perimeter of the eye

Round and round

Around the world

Across the country

Those beeli patra like optics

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This isn't the first time...

Booking rountrips to and fro

On the karmic plane

 

But I gotta say this layover is the best

Situated right in the middle, a bindu

A hypnotic ring of fire

Losing my ground

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I jump on and then I fall 

Tripping on the dupatta 

Red, I recall 

Gosh she's a phoenix

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She is radiance

She is grace

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The World is fire

My World

My beautiful World

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​​​​​​​​​​​Fire rises on the first of March

Like the sun

More fiery than the burning orb in solar system

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