So we wander , with the enormity of the silent universe. So we surrender, to the disrupting lines of nature's verse. Away we fly with the converging horizons, aback it takes us like the flowing turf. As the demons we fly, over the mighty heap of silvers. we always have a chance, but we barely can reach the silent rivers. The flight to the hill, brings a surge of strange Mesmer, and indulged are we, to the glimpses of glitters.
A journey of wisdom, poetry, peace.