She grabbed a handful of soil,

She almost threw up as she felt some dirty and dusty coil,

There was nothing except dirt and debris-

But she implied her eyes-

Throwing was wrong and one thing was completely aware of her-

Amidst the dirt and debris, soil had a thin layer.

She stood, wiping soil from her hand,

She was going to re-form the soil-

She wondered, it had a glistening and slick gesture,

She felt like something was dragging her finger-

Probably her body went on auto-artisan

to make a statue, a miniature of human!

One tin box was splattered with a rusty brown stain-

She was pretty sure that it was of no gain.

As she was ready to throw it out-

She glanced at front door, the letter box was broken,

This scenario was just freaking her in pain-

Her eyes sparkled with little hesitation and doubt,

as she imagined if that tin box would take its place-

with just simply decorating it with colourful coating's lace!

Once she was stuck in a cold ridge,

Because of her roaming aimlessly or hiding in dark crevice-

But now she was feeling cold and nature did not sympathise,

It would be like

getting cool and cool but never be able to get rid (of).

Some fruit trees stretched miles ahead,

They had big insect hair like leaves,

Leaves fell down with which ground was riddled.

They were jutted up the entrance of the ridge-

First she complained but later she thought-

through dry leaves fire can be brought-

to make her body warm and refrain from getting freeze!

Searing pain coursed through her knees,

She felt her knees were buckled with skirts.

She encouraged herself, "Stay on your feet,"

"The pain..you have to beat."

A shadow of faith fell across her,

She screamed and fell,

Suddenly she stood up out of corner-

beating the pain as a triumph over fail.