Seasons come and seasons go,
And the mind wavers to and fro,
There isn’t an answer, there isn’t a plan,
And one keep going back to where it all began.
Life is mysterious and utterly bizzare,
How long it takes to recover from scars,
But there’s always a shining light at the end of a tunnel,
That’ll open it’s arms, so you won’t miss the cuddle.
Atop the mountains, beneath the sea,
The peace and tranquility makes you feel free,
The loneliness disappears from sight,
And every thing around seems to understands your plight.
The meandering courses across the lakes and streams,
And walks through the clouds, just like in dreams,
Wandering across the country with an uncluttered mind,
To let it out of its dreadful confines.
The path to follow will present itself to you,
Summer, Winter, Autumn or even with dew,
As the seasons change and time flies,
The Golden Path will be the lasting prize.