Crawling over the rolling circus
Looking for the horizon to show us
How towers are no trees
Fountains, no soft ponds
Sky is changing the shade of its color,
And it seems like I am in the middle of nowhere

Talking about the endless worship
Marching to the promise land
We surf over the tides of competition
Insensitive to the cry of our own emotion
Till we collide with nature's wall of sunshine
I feel I am in the middle of nowhere

Flowing time washes our days away
While expanding space increases the distance
between two unknown ambitions
Dreams taken in return for blinded desires
Foolish laws govern thoughts of nations
And we hide in the middle of no where

Amongst the phases of plastic minds
A tender infant heart awakes
Following a turmoil of experience and concern
An elastic reason is derived

Are these the days of awakening?
Or it is the birth of a new order of profanity

Rationale could be binding at times
It lets happiness out only through
a small puncture in human possibility
And only at the funeral of identity
does unbound happiness begin to frame

On the outside of inner turbulence
A settling mind whistles a tune of opportunity
Standing tall on a firm piece of land
Flags of will are raised far and wide
At the doors of introspection, belief and construction

I stand young, in the middle of now and here.

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