The road seems to have no end
through the mammoth mountains blanketed with clouds
deserted for eternity
the one who seeks will never find; other than being lost.

Everyone is destined to meet each other as strangers
matured enough to not one really care
and not bother who they know
And smile?, It’s now just a sign of sanity

There is no amazement in how the hour swings between
long minutes and eternal seconds
never curling itself in its own existence
May be it is no more itself

And on the edge nothing really matters
it does not follow laws; always careless
here space and time can shower naked; doors wide open
and no questions will be asked.

But where is the edge ?
the road seems to not have an end
the seeker is the only one who is lost
rest are all strangers with an (in)sane smile
-Vinod-

Categories: Poetry

Tags: 365 Poems, Poems, Poetry, Smile