WANDERING THOUGHTS
hold that drop of water , lest it flow away,
my throat is burning ,but your wound is fresh,
You need it, if you were to stay.
The cold air is piercing my face
I have no means to convey...
That you must hold that drop in the palm of your hand,
that i wish for you to stay.
I scan your face,but i see no feeling.
i search the horizon ,but see not a soul.
I have never been so furtive, the glances i am stealing...
I gently close,narrowly tread when the road bends toward the unknown,
Sunder-bans and freezing peaks and the golden Indian shore.
A land not just of snake charmers , of beauty, of galore .
I stand alone you by my side but still not there to be '
While you scream in myriad tongues ,
i don't understand the words you utter,
But this is our story,
We're lost, we're found...
the globe the map of our minds, yet we've never been wronged,
by each other, by home , by our motherlands
Cause i'm a vagrant, you a vagabond.
Nov 16, 2015
Nov 16, 2015 at 11:16 PM UTC
WANDERING THOUGHTS
hold that drop of water , lest it flow away,
my throat is burning ,but your wound is fresh,
You need it, if you were to stay.
The cold air is piercing my face
I have no means to convey...
That you must hold that drop in the palm of your hand,
that i wish for you to stay.
I scan your face,but i see no feeling.
i search the horizon ,but see not a soul.
I have never been so furtive, the glances i am stealing...
I gently close,narrowly tread when the road bends toward the unknown,
Sunder-bans and freezing peaks and the golden Indian shore.
A land not just of snake charmers , of beauty, of galore .
I stand alone you by my side but still not there to be '
While you scream in myriad tongues ,
i don't understand the words you utter,
But this is our story,
We're lost, we're found...
the globe the map of our minds, yet we've never been wronged,
by each other, by home , by our motherlands
Cause i'm a vagrant, you a vagabond.