There was raining,
in the one night.
dogs were barking,
and ready to fight.
My village was surrounded,
by the dirty water.
frogs were swimming
with naughty daughter.
I was sleeping
with my mom,
without any fear.
Mom used to tell me
You are my son
you are my dear
she used to cry
And falling the tear
She was telling me
Some story of angels
My little fingers were touching
to the mom’s bangles.
By- M.S. Nirala
