A Travelling Life
Someone on this signal,
Someone on other signal,
But everyone on a signal,
And waiting for his signal.
Few of them go forward,
When they feel safe to go,
Few of them feel danger,
And they stop for a go.
Roads are always busy,
A queue gathers and moves,
In his direction, a chain of traffic,
Moves backward and forward.
One direction to another,
We all have a race for living,
Death and birth has no stopper,
Only accident interrupts sometimes.
Over the centuries, a traveller
Is on a way, travelling has never ended,
Roads are travelling always.
A travelling life never gets an end.
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