Peace | Atulya Akshara

Slowly, like drifting fogs,

Pacing through bustling streets,

Through stranded stations,

to numerous destinations,

You, I seek.

In city kights, being washed in the rain,

Under umbrellas, that weep,

When, the Sun goes to sleep,

You, I seek.

In abondoned mansions and the solitary sorrows,

The dancing dead,

Had the eyes that said,

You, I seek.

And, so wherever I may be,

In everything I ever see,

I find you smiling back at me,

I find my piece, I find my peace.