Sunday, September 23, 2007


Into the ravine peeked the tree..
To shrug away the mundane peak tripe..
Saw the wind carrying echoes..
Of journeymen, with seemingly no gripe...

Each time the wind tried to rise..
The heavy burden it wanted to shun..
A current so ruthless, hammered it down..
The wind descended, back to where it had begun...

Why do you do this?, asked the tree..
Isn't it a waste of time?
Why do you return lost voices?
Which aint worth even a dime!

Looking at the hunched tree,
The wind threw a smirk..
The voice you see as trivial,petty..
Is an answer, a ray of hope in this murk..