The Other Valley

The world I stay, thrives by differences ;corporeal and surreal
age it adds to make one wise old and other a young fool
body it binds, land it divides and languages it creates
all for a single purpose-to create this valley of differences.

Time! how cruel you are to cut all asunder
brandishing the ruthless sword that leaves me yonder
from my loved ones, whom thy crew rows efficiently
a journey-which makes the left, grieve on past incessantly.

Unfair is this world, that leaves me in present alone
with all I love tucked in past or future trove
work of unbiased fate, I shall speak not forever
for it is the chief of my happiness plunder.

Thus, I cried to the frolicking waves
that die anew at my feet  always,
"Hop not dear young beings of water
this world deserves not thy  happy chatter"

The waves giggled still in my presence,
" O man! why think you of this forlorn place
where a wave lives on the fall of her kin
a place so miserable with death so keen"

"Think of that valley my comrade of life
where all shall  huddle near a joyous lake,
with fountain of youth brimming our cups,
tree of knowledge silently resting unspoken woes."

Closed I, my eyes that have seen only pain
kissed adieu to friends who speak to most in vain
"I shall look for you in the other valley, my dear
where we laugh at all this; serious and unreal."