Time is passing
So is life
Cross roads, hairpin bends,
Steep climbs, landmarks
All falling behind
I can see a path winding away
Far in the distance
Dissolving into nothingness
One end of which is under my feet
The other seems to be
At the end of my vision
After that… nothing
After that… nothing,
Would be wrong to say
After all, the rest of the world
Has to be there
Somewhere,
Beyond the end of the path
Beyond the end of my vision
Yes, the world made by man
Will cease to exist
But world untouched by man
Will still be there
In its full glory
Narrating it’s amazing story.
I will pass away
You too will be gone
Our sorrows would be wiped off
Smiles will fade leaving no mark
Storytellers will not be around
Listeners also would have passed
But the world will go on
Narrating her story on her own.
Alexander, Babar, Genghis Khan
Christ, Kabir and Krshn
Winners and vanquished
Killers and the killed
All dumped randomly
Unceremoniously
In the dark silence
Of a little old box
Not moving
Not speaking
Yet wearing the crown
With a bloody sword in hand
Not knowing their story is done.
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