Seven of this morning

There is no sun in the east and

the day is not bright as the day passed

With full of pains and tired ness,i raised.

There the clock on the wall has showed seven.

slight drizzles of the sky 

makes me to get fear on my father’s health

His age of seventyeight and his asthma

Threatens me that day will be the last day of his life

There is a mighty blow of thunder in the north sky

makes an extreme fear and plucks his last breeth

My lovely Dad! has turned as a body  in his bed

With an overwhelming grief,

I make arrangements to his last  travel.

SakthiRavichandran an Indian English Poet