A Traveller
Treading on his bad road,
He stumbles and falls.
Not complaining
Of the stormy rain,
Of the long journey;
Yet his short viability.
He’s strolling along
Too exhausted
Of his back loads,
Of his weak force;
Yet his heavy heart.
Will he attain or not?
His so longing Rainbow,
His so desired Rose…
No one knows.
No one knows.
S.C.P.B
So-called Poetry of Biba 