Allured by the weeds,
Of sin, easily, I sought,
Those sordid deeds,
In my land of drought,
What Glittered in this world,
Meseemed it all as gold
And anew dreams I planted
In its lust of impurities; I enchanted,
Nothing did I harvest
As I was a malignant pest
Flown are the pool of remorse
As a ransom over the pot of my curse
Wished I to be a good seed,
But barren mind is almost dead.

VIPINS PUTHOORAN

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/weeds-8/