A writer's strangeness

I sit quietly on the rooftop, Under the starlit sky, Watching through the midnight silence. A few small pecks of light, Spread all over the city, Mostly belonging to some streetlights, Shining to show the way to unknown. I hear bark of a dog from somewhere far. What does it want to say? The unofficial watchman. I spot another dog nearby, Shouting back to other one. His shout piercing through the peaceful night. Then again, everything is silent. As silent as grave. There is no reply back. I look towards it, Wanting to shout back. But then, I revert back. Not wanting to disturb the sleeping people. The nation is sleeping. – Ashish Vats (AV)   

Voice of Nature There he was standing on the coast of the beautiful ocean trying to make his final decision. He had lost everything to his bloody fate, now, he wanted to leave this bitchy world where what everyone cared about was just money. But his legs were not cooperating with him completely. He was rooted to the spot watching end of another day. The sunset was beautiful beyond words. He kept staring at it, a part of his hopes coming back to him. Then he suddenly shook himself rather violently bringing himself to his present, he had accepted his defeat from his fate, he had lost his way to his destiny. Yet that last moment of sunshine, that rippling of water, that chirping of seabirds, those small fishes sometimes surfacing on water, as if out of curiosity, what that man was doing standing still, all these were trying to pull him back. But why should he stay, wasn't all his reasons for living kicked out of him by his own society, his own relatives, friends and all.  Still ...