I quit from the sickness of narrow mind
I quit from meanness of bright lamps
I quit from darkness of wavering clamp
I quit from obsolete dirt that touches on
Quit will shed some burden off
Which my selfless motives are carrying on
I fear with the mirror covers
This is breakable with the slightest hurt.
Quit is the decision subconsciously taken.
Else realities will wage war with purities of heart.
Soul keeps knocking the door so often
The doors are half close and half open.
Quit appears to be wonderful thought
When it is phased out, world reacts with frolic
drought but I am very firm without any doubts,
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