Each river comes from the society,
In the middle of the way towards the sea
A lonely traveler calls silently to both of them.
A path of society is very long,
Everyone is mad, running as machines
Towards the uncertainty,
The dreams are lost; the memories are there in lazy eyes.
The wondering hand is very short,
The ability of touching the sky in heartbeats,
The fingers can’t draw the university.
What are there in every face!
There are only mirrors
And the dry lights of bones, muscles and skin.
Are there any speeches of feelings in blood!!
Who searches for what!!!
Each thing is hidden in the game of the brain,
Perhaps,we may be defeated to find the brightness of broken glasses,
And will sleep in pains.
No! A traveler can’t take rest,
The duties are going on in each moment,
Searching is the life, we may find or not,
Even the restless nights will passed away
Once again and once again.
Come on! We should sustain every pain,
There should be happiness in touching of sea,
May be the cold wind touches our heart?
May be the sounds of broken glasses not listened.
The traveler has slept now.
The warming morning is dancing in the bed,
But there is a red evening in the empty paper,
We have to walk towards the sea silently.
copyright Aswini Dash