A word never spoken, a line never penned, a desire never expressed, a song never sung.
It went out with a tide that never returned, on a journey that never ends with a boat that never shores to a place that is unknown.
It is in time but yet to be.
But some day it shall well be.
Until then the paper boats that I set to sea,
Will carry the stories of you and me.
I will grow old and light as a breeze
And when these distances are too much to bear
I too shall call in a wave
And ride to the sea.
Rest your mind my dear friend
We shall meet again at the very end
For I have heard that all the rivers in this world
Find their way to the Sea.
Play me a sad song Sarathi
And drive me home real slow
We have traveled these roads
A million times before
But tonight, as you take me home
Drive Slow. Drive Slow.
I want to carouse the potholes on these roads
I want to swing slowly with the wide turns you take
And as you wait for red lights to turn green,
I want to wave back at young children waving at me.
Reach Home today
We both will.
As if this is the last time
You will drive me Home.
Sarathi: Stands of Lord Krishna in his role as a Charioteer to Krishna during the Kurukshetra War.
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