Through which specs you are reading this?
I feel to laugh

You see, that glass is just yours.
Just as I have my own.

The moment these words come out,
Those become yours, just as they are mine.

And from where they are coming?
I can see them only after they are there.

But for now, let me take the doer-ship
Though I may take births again

Or may I go beyond the cycle,
And Oh Lord, may I see the light?

I am tired, reading the same stories,
Only my glasses are changing

With out light, how can I read?
But I am still changing my specs