Don’t go to the forbidden hill! Once five men went to see. But three were killed by the fire From those flying chariots. And two were killed by them With fire-spitting weapons, To teach others a lesson.
You know, the elders say, Once a hunter saw them Taking bath in the lake. He was never seen again! Some say, leave it… Some say, they don’t stay. They come to help us- They just come and go. But you never know.
Once they took our king With them, for a ride… He told us many stories! They might take us too Someday, hopefully…
metaphysical impulse ensues through the flames of resistance shun its existence etched beneath the tapestry of loosened conclaves alone in desperation in the night heavy sounds of cosmic illumination in temples of fire reaching ever higher on point locked in
Under the vast canopy Of spotless blue sky With snow-capped hills as neighbours Rests the cute cottage blissfully In the midst of blooming flowers Far from the madding crowd Far from din and bustle Far from smoggy air space And
Even when the night air is calm and still you can hear the wailing of women from the past that flung themselves off of WIDOW’S HILL to the cold, cold ocean below and legend has it at Collinwood they’re waiting
Up the hill In a valley Daffodils grew on the banks of Kashmir Pretty pink, white and yellow Dancing in the sunshine meadow Little Robin red breast Tweeting on the willow White clouds flirting With the little fellow Up the
For ages, her life has been A journey of endless strife Most of the times unrecognised Generation after generation Beautiful as a part of nature itself In whose lap she is born and brought up She grows up to attain