Hold on to the thought, that’s yours—because I don’t want to hear it in the hustle and bustle of the town.
Is there a place where you can speak aloud and the words travel and reach to me?
Or a hut, where even without your presence, I could feel you are around,
like a guarding angel, all around me,
so I’m not afraid, afraid to jump in a dungeon,
because I know, however deep be the trench, you’ll pull me toward the sun.
The world I see with eyes wide open is not the one I wish to believe,
but if belief is what I have to hold on to, it would rather be you.
Those boundaries that they build around themselves and safeguard the invisible walls,
Is it my vision that not wants to hide anything or the transparent soul,
that believes it is better to give and never take.
But I know I can pierce through their minds and come out of the jigsaw puzzle.
The puzzle that life is, that takes me to you, as every single day passes by …
So hold on to the thought, till I reach the point where all the ends and the beginnings meet!
