hectic nightmares wander inside my psyche
limpid salty tears roll down my flaming eyes
turning my nose red, Desperately desiring to be snugged
|source from google|
No histories are jotted in an annals
And never will it be in progressive future
A child rejoicing his or her entire life
within four walls of their until death calls.
An infant will never remain as an infant in fact
will ripe as the fruits and blossom as flowers
Bidding farewell to their hoary parents
Resuming newly life nestled miles away from aged old parents.
I believe " Home is where your soul resides"
And being in Sherubtse, experiencing boarder life for first time
made me desolate, several thoughts, I had contemplated of being with "Them"
My mourning is buried, not even echoing
I know A child will never lived with the parents forever..