Desire in my heart forms a heap,
Stunned by woods' beauty, I weep.
But I won't stop 'cause there are,
Acres of corn field yet to reap.

Both the thoughts are still at par,
My heart with mind is caught in war,
Leaving the snowy woods I've to move,
Following that bright still north star.

In state of such dilemma you've,
To make one choice and prove,
That you can never have it all,
How much ever you desire the grove.

My wish is naive but promises are tall,
Now they give my weary spirit a call,
So let the white snow flakes fall.
So let the white snow flakes fall.

I drift lifeless in this weary night
Not cognizant of these dark ways
A tear in my eye blurs my sight
Souvenir of bright, beautiful days

I hear the sound of leaves, dry
Crushed like my life, torn apart
Like a soft, muffled cry
I hear their echo in my heart

I turned around with a firm belief
Of someone in this way unknown
But the sight multiplied my grief
An empty road with a shadow of my own

I looked up at the moon profound
Prepared I was to shout aloud
At this happiness I just found
When she hid behind a chunk of cloud

Hither this day as I hold thy wreck
Tears flow from mine eyes surplus
Thought of thy loss gives me an ache
As mine heart pumps life, lifeless

As I stare at thy body, isabelline
I recall when I said, "Thou can go on"
I knew that I was being mean
And in a flick of fate, thou art gone

O how I wish to touch thy strings
To hold in mine hands thy body, alluring
And fly with thy soul, if I had the wings
To listen again to thy melodies, charming

"It's just a guitar," say the angels above
Little do they know, thou art my lost love

In this busy world of hate
They leave the commoner to fate
In this deck of cards they're the ace
When resisted they ask, "Which race?"

They ignite fires with flames unto skies
For their music are the innocent cries
They've flown rivers of blood longer than Nile
Rivers which can even turn a desert fertile

They **** woman and child with ease
When asked they say, "Preparing for peace."
You need your own hands for this fight
Because the real world has no dark knight

Where is the change sometimes I wonder
All looks the same like the valiant sun yonder
It still burns and gives it's rays
Softening our hearts and lighting our ways
The moon still shines and follows it's course
It's we who've put ourselves behind locked doors
Upon these parts whenever I ponder
Where's the change they make me wonder
The colorful birds sitting on the trees above
Still sing the melodies of pain and love
The rainbow still shines after the rain
It's we who've flushed the happiness into drains
There's still vigor in the flight of butterflies
Alas! We've chosen to shut our eyes
Much beauty lies in the blue bolts of thunder
Where is the change sometimes I wonder

Some wise men have said,
That the universe
Is made of strings, tiny,
Which vibrate in dimensions ten.
Six extra dimensions than
The usual three of space
And the fourth, which is assessed
Using a pendulum
Oscillating in nothingness.

Strings, like the ones of a guitar,
Playing different notes
And different symphonies
Bosons, fermions, electrons
And gravitons to name a few.
This annuls racism among sub-atomics
Since ultimately they're all threads.
Or do you think, a boson
Is superior to a fermion
'cause it swings in a different plane
Or because one of them is called
The God Particle?

Strings, oscillating like
The alternation of seasons
Strings, like the thread of relationship
Which stretches and swings
Between its highs and lows
Strings, oscillating like
The advancing and receding waves

All we could be is a painting,
A hologram, simple 3D information
On a two dimensional plane
Living our lives and executing functions
As the painter intended us to.
All we are, are threads
Arranged in a particular fashion
All we are is a bunch of strings!