who has placed that desk ,in the middle of the desert,
who has made her sit on it for such long,still like been sitting here for centuries,
and became a part of that brown wooden desk,her eyes have lost their shine,
but if you look in for while ,will receive the slight sign of light like coming from other end of the
very long tunnel,in this bit light one can read the story written on tunnel 's wall,story of a wait ,
which she been doing for the cloud of her destiny ,which spouse to bring some rain for her desert,
in the mirror of her face one can see that how deeply desert crawled inside her soul ,
thrust made her tongue dry and throat full of thorns,
her lips were burning as they will absorb the rain for years,
her eyes still stuck at the ending line of desert where a green land can bee seen hardly ,
land where all seasons of life used to come and stay,where clouds used to deliver their giveaway,
where spring fulfilled all dreams of earth,
some of the time it clouds seemed too close to her desert,as it was about to rain but ,
then they suddenly got back with a cruel smile .as they were enjoying her pain,
she is still on that brown wooden desk move less and soundless,
some time she seems like a cracked statue of sand ,as one will touch her and she will be breakdown and will blow away with wind in the desert.
