The world is busy to harness plan,
He enjoys the void of plans!
And ploughs his devoid
With the romance of randomity!

Dark and dusky
Sun has turned his look rusty
Yet he is the one whose spirit isn't rusted.

He carries a spirit, hard to see,
If you peep he takes a flee.
His flight, drops a shred of his spirit,
On a land of dead hopes.

The spirit of unplann'd
Brought resurrection to that land.
Plans grew, hopes brew, spirit flew,
To embrace the mate
It'was all but fate.

Now the plan interwines with No Plan,
In the vineyard of love.
Where the sub of excitement &
Moonlit of relaxation mingle,
To fertile the bed of vineyard
Where he grows with No Plan &
she grows with plan in the vineyard of love.

© Amrita Chandan