There will be many storms passing
And she will be left bitter, sad and alone
She shall still continue to hold on to hope
Run, an inner voice bellowed
Holding on to her foot long faded grayish blue gown by side
She ran as fast as she could
But the flow of the river pulled her back
Those river always flows backward
They are full of whim
And has the power to suffocate with a tiny hunk from past
Which has no life, no meaning
She thought she could manipulate the weather
But she were manipulated by the strong wind
Her thirst increases where she paint those hunk
With much brighter color
Only to bring more pinching pain to her soul
Those memories are transporting the demon back
They are called melancholy
They can never be escaped as she continue to run
Holding on to the demon can save her now and ever
But its only known to the winds
Remorse, remorse, remorse
Uproar all the chilly wind flowing around
And all she knows her current heart is a ghost
Full of passion, solitude, ignominy, vanity, betrayal
And she continue to run!!!
ZenYatra 