Millions of things cross my mind everyday
but its u who’s thought never stray.
Hope is the word I call my best friend
yet I know there is gloom all the way with loads of bumps and bend.
Lost I am to such an extent that I have no track of my present.
Wandering in the wilds with no end for miles I look for the enigmatic tangent. Incessant this journey has become rubbing the grey reality every time I try to ascent.
Rawness of the road now seems like cashmere
and all I’m left with is an arid mirage of tear.
Such inexorable is your quest that horizons
in heaven I’ll measure from depths to crest me crimson me crimson!
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