The essence of truth.

The gleaming sky that reaps out the pain,
the spring that sweeps the rain,
cheers to every step that peeps out
from the window of my shallow lane.
Tha lane is of silt, that fills the puff,
the lane is to embrace, that soothes,
the lane is of sights, that are colorful,
the lane is of no losses and not of any gain.
Opened arms invites the chirps,
of those birds, flying freely towards
the infinity, without any break,
with only hope and some faith.