How often he thought
To break free his shackles,
To run through
The murky streets,
And dash into the jungle.
To shred of his etiquette
For once at least.
To bow in front of
Of those,
Untouched,
Untrodden,
Paths,
Those sounds that beat
In the same rhythm of his heart,
Those shades, those hues
That greeted him
In his mother's womb.
How could he have,
Forgotten his roots,
Forgotten to recline
Under such shady boughs
Run across such blissful meadows,
Drench his soul
In Wistful ponds,
Sing a song in
Unison,
To the chorus
Of small lives,
Hidden but loud.
And proud to be
A part of
Nature,
Since the birth of Time.
A solemn participant of
9 comments:
Many a times we feel to breakfree of the binds we carry all life for the sake of society and civil life. But still sometimes we aren't able to, but at least we grow...
how easy it is for us to forget. i love escaping to the woods and trails and find my peace there...
Even a "free man" by law, wants to break free. Great words, expertly arranged. Loved the flow, your voice.
very vibrant post, Good Read! :)
I like the rhythm of this a lot!
Wonderful writing! Too often we forget the simple pleasures of our past.
it looks like a stunning walk.
Cheers,
Thanks for sharing.
Rhythmic poem that carries me along with it's beauty.Good job sherya!
Great image & congratulations on being selected for Poem of the Week over at Jingle Poetry!
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