Resting on a deserted bank of a river,
I am counting the blessings of nature.
From a gentle breeze to the voiceless animals,
The stream is moving slowly towards its destiny.
The pale grass and the yellow trees talk of destruction.
The noise of iron machine fills my world with chaos.
The empty fields are like my empty heart,
Though boundaries are there.
An eagle has its nest,
But I am a wanderer.
The wander of a true love.
Finding my beloved in wilderness,
Where spares of disloyalty pierce my numb heart.
Muddy roads remind me of some soft looks.
The innocent faces that set my world on fire.
I have come here with the hapless ashes of my burnt world to decorate my bruised body.
The sky is bleak and I am receding into oblivion.
The owls are making fun of my desolated world,
For I am in a pensive mood.
