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I have walked this path a thousand times and I watch the swinging bridge dangling across the sea as the residue of hope crawls on the floor and my spirit keeps searching for more.

I have walked the corridors of history and sometimes it makes me unhappy, the souls that should be with us they are no more, the deity have taken then too soon and their wandering spirit is out in the deep trying to get home.

You mock the homeless, you shame the immigrants and the motherless, and those than cannot fit into your shoes, you shame them and call them fools, no one can escape uncle Sam vengeance. Its courage is rolling in sea and my gavel will determine your destiny.

The leaves of life spread its branches in the woods and the trees bow their heads and standing at attention to salute the dead as the soldiers continue to search for the bodies of the newly wed. 

It was just a month ago they tied the knot and went walking in the jungle to escape the distraction and heat, but they did not return and the universe keep pining after thee.

I held my hands above my head to listen to what the universe said” there is a light in you that cannot go out and sometimes it makes your spirit shouts,.

It touches your inner being and sometimes it makes your spirit scream, and the souls that were once here start slowly to reappear and the burdens fall in the tree and disseminate with the breeze.

I can hear them walking on the floor in heavy boots, that carry the burden of their youth, they have grown out of it and they cannot fit into it, and adulthood is bearing the strain upon their knees, you hear this when your soul is pining after the motionless trees.

I can hear them speaking in voice that are not alive and I dried the tears as I watch their spirit cries , hundreds of them trapped in the bushes, feeding on panda cane and searching for a home that is far away from the jungle,

They have been travelling for more than a century and they have reached thus far hoping to find a resting place so that their spirit will come alive and the heavens will give birth to a brand-new earth.

I am searching for a place to anchor my soul, I am searching for a place to live before my body gets old, the cold air has drenched the path and the village is left in the dark,.

The reporters are all over and the street dissecting the story that makes the universe weeps.

The decision is in the mixing bowl but the results lies in the anchor of my soul.
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