Many furlongs off the beaten path
Is this distant world undiscovered
The mystic faith that beauty hath
Unheard remains what it whispered!
What the longing of a lovelorn heart
Seeks in the wasteland of the moor
By the forlorn tombstone of Mozart
Still blooms the passion of l’amour!
I smell the long search of goatherds
Thru the thorny shrubs that end nowhere
My chase of a flock of mockingbirds
Frees me from abyss of deep despair!
Something, beyond, redemption calls
Me, to be, one with, trinity
Let me forget falls of recalls
Where All The Tethers Of Time Break Free!
© 2023 Vikas Chandra