Willow still queit.

7 innings went off, I still stand below,

White columns of my scorecard have nothing to show.

Nightmares that frustrates me compelling me to retreat,

Extinct I feel, struggling for my willow to speak.

The grains off my bat still lay untouched,

Their cracks I believe I have taken so much.

The colour of my blade still remains neat,

Extinct I feel, struggling for my willow to speak.

Each time I take my guard, hoping for a new innings to start.

No matter how hard I push, as always it retards.

The light of my ambition fluttering somewhere deep

Extinct I feel, struggling for my willow to speak.

I'll try and try to the fullest I can,

Stubborn by nature as I am.

Rolling in the dust today, but I'll reach the peak.

Extinct I feel, struggling for my willow to speak.

At present, I might be doing mistakes in blunder,

But the time is not far when my blade shatters thunder.

All my expectations I'll meet,

The time is near my willow will speak.....