Words fail to flow,
and the feeling refuses to go.
I am but a ghost,
on this life's shore.
With everything seeming strange,
nothing seems to have a face.
Unnamed,the emotions remain,
how much ever i try,it is the same.
The sea of thoughts flow over,
and it seems too pure,to be even water.
Yet it hurts,something refuses to flirt,
it remains happy, to be curt.
Someone,turned a wheel,
and it has turned some seal.
It will all end,
but the question is when?
Who has the right to name?
Who sets the rules of this game?
What is the difference,if it is the same?
What is the use of renumeration,
what is the connection,
between me and this mission.
It is too pure to be water,
and even if it is summer,
something remains,
keeping life's warms and sanes.
It is too pure to be water,
for it flows through my veins,
it is too pure to be water,
for it is what remains.
it is too pure to be water,
for it is a joyous leader,
it is too pure to be water,
for it has no tastes,
it is too pure to be water,
it is from the deep ocean,
it is a unknown notion,
but it is the one,with the solution.
It is too pure to be water,
for it is what everything contains,
it is too pure to be water,
it is the sun and the stars and the moons,
it is too pure to be water,
it is what makes cooler,
it is too pure to be water,
for it resides forever,
it is too pure to be water,
it is the harbinger,
of life's harvester.
It is too pure to be water,
for purity is beyond it.
It is too pure to be water,
it is too pure to be water.
the light shines the brightest
