Monday, 31 August 2015

A White Mountain

Among this crowd of vain
All engrossed in pain
I wait for the train
To a white mountain

They say it’s a place
Far away from this race
Where nature & god’s grace
Lay in a warm embrace

Where the birds play
And the squirrels run gay
where the setting sun’s ray
brightens a loner’s day

but the train’s too late
and yet I lie in wait
with a will that wont abate
and wont settle with mere ‘fate’

So I run with all my fire
And Will walk if I tire
Freedom aint just a desire
It’s a need no one can mire

Once there , I wont miss
The busy world & its piss
 I'll be lost & maybe reckless
And in rain, his lips I’ll kiss

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