Month: March 2015

My Shangri-La

United States; the name I hear

Though staring at the starry sky

Thinking of our new home with fear

The land where my dreams can fly.

How can my memory be removed

Of leaving my dwelling dome

And the dear garden which I love

The beauty of my native home?

From my dear residence I roam

To a land where I now live

Maneuvered from my native home

Trusting our creator, Lord Shiv.

It was like a loss of Paradise

Or Eden’s garden left after it has bloom

Where sorrow throws us no advice

Smell of my native home like perfume.

I shall not forget

My sad departure far away

As far as the sunset

And leave behind no light for the day.

 

As soon as I dry my tear

And leave forever to roam,

Far from a residence so dear

The place of beauty; my native home.