Take me to the woods deemed far
With colossal tranquility and bleeding transparency
Take me beyond the winds
Where I and agony are distant stars
Take me to the breeding ground of purity
Where I hold hands with the beryl skies and the autumn
Take me to a metaphor of heaven
Where the emotions are not thy, not my
Take me to a field plain
With no fear of skyscrapering dreams
Take me to the flowing waters
To rinse some of the dirt aided steams
Take me away from this game of clashing heydays
With chronic exercise of plasticity
Take me away from these half won battles
Where my distinction is no more a deciding factor
Take me as I stand alone and strangled
And the soul gives a loud cry, “Take me…take me…..”
