Thru' the passages so dark,
I kept on walking still.
One day to leave my mark,
on 'the time to come' - I feel.
When after many springs,
a youth laden with dreams.
In freshness of youth brings,
caskets of hope, with golden rims.
Maybe he would walk like me,
and in darkness trod the same.
Listen to echoes, that there be,
that I have left with no name.
Prasenjit©1997-2012
No comments:
Post a Comment