Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jun 2014
A little fast, a little slow
A little high, a little low
Through the years, the wind blows
Through the years, the time flows.

The runner pants for moment
Huffing and puffing for a breath of air
His body aches, his sweat drips
For a rare friend, his heart weeps.

The scorching heat burns his feet,
As he remembers those memories sweet,
The ***** wind hits his face
He has to finish his unending race.

He runs and runs on a lonely stretch,
Strewn with rocks of varying shapes,
At his rare friend, the runner smiles
He won't ever show how his heart cries.

Ahead he looks to places far away
Soon he will be right on his way
It's a long hard race with no winners
No God in heaven, no hell for sinners.

There is no time to sit or sleep
No time to ponder, for he must leave
In all his spirits, away he goes
Never to look back, his duty he knows.

He is the chosen one, condemned to live
Never to receive, forever to give
He runs alone, the long hard way
In his journey, to meet life 'someday'.
Empty Perspective
Written by
Empty Perspective  New Delhi
(New Delhi)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems