I long for greener pastures, brighter hopes.
I long to sketch ‘SAIL’ on this stagnant sand.
I long to understand sweet Nature, to cope
with the world’s complication– Life’s harsh bond.
At least two mansions; worst, the swiftest cars,
a son with exact semblance, a wife like
a mom. I’ll build a tower beneath the stars
where I could climb the clouds and take a hike.
But not one thing will actively remain:
All things must go- at frosty weathers, leaves frost.
I shall be left to decompose to dust;
I have no light, no hope, I accrue in vain.
I feel my woe, and wonder why I care,
and realise I long for nothing here.