Turbid Path

Travellers travelling through the travailing land

Weary and grief in the pool of swamp

With undying wounds on broken bones stuck in the viscous of life

Their thick sweat slides effortlessly freely like river Euphrates

But none was there to care about their trepidation

The strong desire of reaching forth the treasure land shrivels

Gate to the mind rolls upwards to the one who create something out of nothing

Craving to be an expounder of ambiguity

The creator stretches forth his arm to keep them in the warmth of his bosom

Go forth the turbid path