BY: Shekhar Rizal

I met a traveler, sound and calm; supposed to tired and fatigued,
Never a word on our stay in shade;
who could guess, he’s to heed?
That chilled everywhere out in wealth, Oh! the voice, “Wealth over the air”. slowly the mind developed to a strange, If he had something pretty fair?
He poked my heart and explained so, “For every wrongs there is truth,”
the truth of wrongs, the feel of one. Everlastingly made commenced to hoot. Certainly as in the tug of war,
our hearts decided the two,
for the purpose he said and i inquired,
No answers from any means and if ‘or’.
He is absolute in my land on innocence,
could enjoy what talked to him,
For me a good story that is new,
Even may be vain he’s over sense.
Peering over his advancement,
many hundred years I lack,
I am looking him once again,
If he again returns back.