It's not about being alone,
It's just about being away,
It's not about what you feel,
Just about how you heel,
Flying away on the planes,
Running down in the rains,
Away from home,
Away from self,
Living in an unholy land,
Thats what it feels when you have no supporting hand.
But there is a special bond with the soul,
Which keeps one strong in every role,
Its about secrets which can never be told,
Pain thats makes you cold,
So many words that were written but never spoken,
Hurts of the promises which were broken,
All this can't be shared with rest,
But can just be held within ones self.
Its so difficult to decide,
Whom to rely in life?
Its like searching where to reside,
When you know you are about to die...
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