Treading on these grounds again.
A billion people at a dead ball.
Nothing ever remained same ,
Fires in golden hall.
On earth , these beautiful daffodils bloom.
So is the rose with thorns.
Somewhere the nights are gloom,
And somewhere days mourns.
Chased the moon whole life,
But died for the sun, it's light.
And in love , no one dies of knife,
It's always dreams, blind and bright.
And it just hurt and hurt and hurt,
The more we run and run.
And in the end ,
We all are missing.
