Puzzle

A heart may find its content
but life is a puzzle,
one keeps on throwing dices.

It is melody of life or plans
we go on like
tendril grows over tree,
significant something.

We call our trails our will
and name our hope a star in sky
bejewelled where one can set their eyes,
it is tradition.

Thus,
breeze in valley or faint rain from sky
we look for clues when we have found
our cluster and mile.

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