It's only the hill that stays still, or so it seems.
Until it drifts by eventually.
Highway lights in a sea of black,
as the bus forges ahead on a torrid road.
The bumps more reminiscent of being
stranded on a dingy boat at shore.
The ebbs n flows of nightlife, as peaceful as they see,
Are but a moment of peace, tranquility, in an otherwise chaotic world.
If I were a hare or probably some odd lil animal in the wild, I'd wonder,
What wonder, this streaming light beam must be, that moves with so much force?
Yet, it moves without moving.
A lonely light atop a hill,
Ah, maybe a temple I say.
No wait. Its a star.
It moves and flows where the hill goes,
Has to be a light.
From far far away, it all looks the same,
with my naked eye,
Its wonderful, beautiful, and lovely.
Oh what cities we build and build,
All night and day
Hang a pot or two
To give it a touch of nature.
The havoc we cause, masked by a sense of right.
The stars, how they shine,
Peeking out, calling out to me.
I've always wondered where they'd gone.
they've always been here
hidden behind wispy veils of light n smoke.
Oh well. Stars shine your fire,
This is my desire. A tribute to Mumford n Sons.
Faith can move mountains,
but what does a lonely hill do?
Does it beg to move or stay?
live in visceral solitude or suffer being a foothill?
Does a lonely hill ever feel lonely at all?
I dared to ask the hill.
It stared back at me in silence.
the still of the night offering no hint of breath or rustle.
I felt the question in all the silence.
Do you feel lonely in the crowd?
And I looked away.
The hill was better off living alone.
So ill mannered was he. Maybe it was a she.
I wouldn't know.
It was too dark and all I heard was silence.
Wave upon wave of darkness,
As far as my eye could sea,
A bluish grey horizon
Breaks the vastness of the sea.
