The white peak touching clouds -Shubhi Vashistha
Recovered paradise for all mankind-John Keats
The path will be tough,
there will be a lot of curves.
look around, the story of people,
some defeated and other unrecalled.
the faces were torn out.
Sometimes I doubt,
It tells about the wounds of yesterday.
Writing about your day,
the words, the emotions, the smile you delivered.
they believe repentance is the only way to salvation.
what about if they are destined to sorrow,
what if nothing, not even pain is left to borrow.
And the next morning brings the light of hope and aspirations.
the pace is unrushed and calm,
the eyes and those five lines on a Palm.
the nights are about silent sparkles.
The wind is cold, the voices of birds and trees,
are singing along feels like they are at least free.
wrapped in the beauty of nature,
the tedious journey of life.
those busy circling hours,
virtue, respect, and honesty to achieve.
Colors and their existence were weaved.
my soul is reaching me out,
those inner voices are now loud.
these mountains told me your story,
the story of the tedious journey of life.