In The Heart Of The Woods….

The woods are lovely, dark and deep

The woods are dead yet alive.

The woods are lonely, brighter; steep

Yet the most mysterious place, an archive.

The heart of the woods, the place is sound

Yet the picture speaks a thousand things

And as i walk on the grassy ground

I listen to the chaos they sing.

Amongst the green, the trees do live

Like happiness in one’s heart

That grows with every moment lost

And every second spent apart.

The sky is blue in the morning sun

And it grows drowsy with the evening air

Just like the zeal with which one is born

Till death dims its flare.

The sky is sometimes dressed with silver

That precedes a loud, roary sound

Which may be lost amidst the woods

But can be heard from the trees around

And as they shake and tremble and fall

With the winds that follow

Showers of rain console the uprooted

Nothing’s lost, there is a tomorrow.

And before the day shall come again

A lot has been lost and forgotten

But the woods soon recover from the shocks

And the wounds are filled, after rotten.

But while i pass the woods i peep

In its heart for what it presents

For even though it is dark and deep

It says what my heart has meant.

 

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