Lost

Treading on a strange road, 

Whom a dark forest engulfs. 

Passing through the prickly goad, 

know not what enthralls. 

A thinking man with a long shadow, 

With my back to the sun. 

Reaching for the elusive rainbow, 

All I know I have to run.

I know not where the road leads,

I know not where I am.

Rustling leaves the breeze reads,

Path below my feet feels a sham.

Oh my nonchalant parched heart,

What is it that you seek?

In the deep forest, like a hart,

A dreamy land you keek.

A stream that plays its music,

Surrounds the wonder land.

Nothing of amuse, it’s so tragic,

For it longs for the Neverland.

The soul knows the secret deep,

Though the mind lies in a frost.

A promise it strives to keep,

The promise to be always lost.

Penchant Dreams

Rustling leaves in an enchanting forest;

deep within a soul cries.

Leaves are dead, yet they make sound;

with each breath he so tries.

Balmy air, don’t go the farthest;

yet the inkling of the desire.

A laughing man, whom sorrow hound;

the habit of playing with the fire.

A stream's flute plays the strongest;

when the mountains breaks the ice.

At a binging heart, beats the devils pound;

give it the pain, but doesn't suffice.

A fakir walks alone into a land strangest;

whom the heralding dogs denounce.

That empty mind has wisdoms round;

he knows not why they trounce.

Falling rain ebb to the sea largest;

it cares not for the echoing screams.

Those mighty steps, are surely profound;

like dancing with the penchant dreams.