The Traveler |

The Traveler |

By: Preeti Vyas |


All you are is nothing but a mere traveler,
The more you walk, 
You enlighten your world moving out of the dark,
The curvy trails are new, though,
But you always find comrades few,

A few that share with you the life stories, 
A few that turn up into scribed memories,
The zest and zeal,
Mysteries kept, sometimes revealed,

And you jump and dance as you see the life around,
It sometimes increase your pace, or sometimes slows you down,
As in the end the pace never matters,
It is the destination and the countless arts you gather,

The traveler is wise but dwells in dilemma while choosing the way,
Cause unintentionally he wants few comrades to stay, 
But then the ultimate goal is reaching the destination,
Paths need to be chosen with utmost precision,

The journey through the woods haunts him as he walks,
A distant source of dim light kindles an assuring spark,
As you know you are alone but you ain’t,
Irony spirals eternally till the last source of light faints,

Irony spirals eternally till the last source of light faints.


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