Thursday, June 16, 2011

She moves about
in the thorny wilderness
she is running away
the path is long
almost never ending.
Thorns is what that passed her
Thorns are what that are laid in her way
Bruised bleeding she still runs
her voice echoes wildly
dismissed as a fit of delirium
by the flowers and the floss
the dark little nymphs
the soul of the sky ..
by soul of the era gone by
they sleep unperturbed
the truth only she tries to see
through the misty eyes
her vision is not clear
but her aims are
direction is lost
but not her determination
some say she will make it....
some say she won't
she never says a word..
only gazes at the peak
where she has to reach
but when she sees the height
the steep slopes
she gets scared
of falling , of failing
failing is not
the only scary thought
but fear of failure
scares too...