Thoughts jingle around the room,

as whir the windmills of fate.

Echoes of past often loom,

brighten the flicker of faith.

Hills beckon in the background

upon which set daily gaze.

Faces come, converse and crowd-

fit into his piece of maze.

And we shed tears forlorn.

He not lonely, tho alone.

This entry was posted in Poetry on by .

About Rahul Aithal

I am from Mumbai, India. Composing poems gives me immense pleasure. Few poetic sites I write on are - poemhunter.com, poeticvoice.ning.com, poetfreak.com and, recently Avant-Garde-Writer's Haven (on Facebook). You could browse my other writes on my private blog, rahulaithal.blogspot.com. I am glad to have joined this site, thanks to Louis. I hope to add value and get the group going.

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