Traveller Poem by Rema Santosh

The path that was taken,
lay curling far ahead.
with more buds to bloom,
and more rainbows to disappear.

The vestige that remain,
talk about the visors owned,
volcanoes that had expressed itself,
and also the vipers that lost its way.

Each still go on the voyage,
to reach a safer shore,
leaving behind the calm, blue waves
and embracing many that hurts.

Years say bye, still the flight is high
in the look out for a world,
a world for yourself, owned by you,
and where you are free of yourself.