LOST.
Thou art we, oh Lord don’t know
Why you left us all alone?
We are just traversing the fields of human thoughts
And do nothing but moan.
Sitting ideal at the back benches
With the class going on
My mind is fixed on you
all passions and reasoning gone.
I can’t live alone any more
And bear the pain under my chest
My lord provide Thou laps
Where upon can I keep my head and rest
I know not how to how to feel
To be in final year.
The society is waiting as college comes to an end
Again the same story fills my eyes with tears.
22 gone in the search, 22 more, let say.
Before you open the gates of your Kingdom
Where can I run, fall, stand, jump and play.
2 comments:
It's nice.I like it.
"My mind is fixed on you
all passions and reasoning gone."
I cannot renounce action, but only relinquish my expectations. Passion and reason become the tools of compassion. Does not and artist or craftsman ply with an end result in mind though and conceive the possible reactions to his art. How does a human here in the world abandon intent? Or should we merely offer and hope?
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