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Clouds

Freely floating clouds,
you are the true monarchs of the vast skies.
Will you be my chariot ?
Can you carry me to the northern heights?
On a hill top, in a beautiful town solace of my soul resides.
Different shades of you from gray to white make lovely patterns when they mingle with the azure of the vault of the heaven.
I also pine for blending with the serenity that's a permanent resident of the balming north to create mosaic with the hues of chaste love and warmth,
I also wish to script an arresting tale of tenderness, 
but for my dream to see the light of the day ,
will you be my coupe?
Unshackled, unbound and untethered as you are,
Craving of parched lands you know how to quench,
Scouring of muddy sphere you know how and when to handle,
Will you carry me alongwith you to the direction pointed by the one and only  northern star?
So, that l can feel alive before it's too late
and breath in the land where there is no negative ardour to confine the virtuouness of the soul.








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