The village woodcutter dreamed
About the place once he knew
Deep in the forest he walked
With his long axe as his company
There was a broken down bricks complex
Situated along the lake....in the distance shadows moved
In the moonlit night the dark shadows floating around
The dark forest was their domain.........
100 storey high
Built of bricks and mortars
One time a majestic view
It was said from the village heads
Commanding a view
Of the sun and the moon
Rising high as if meeting the gods
Only evil luring humans got lost
The strong roots entangled the rundown building
The facade lost its colour and strength
The live force all gone now
As he saw standing nearby of the lake
The two back dogs suddenly appear
The village woodcutter appeared surprise
He picked stones to throw at them
They changed into dark angels rising in his eyes
He tried to run away
He fell to the ground of twigs and wet grass
He managed to get up holding his long axe
The dark angels floating by
He swung his long axe blindly
Every direction he threw his swing
Yet he could hear the laughter
“Fools! You can't touch me!”
He struggled with them
As they fought on the grass
He fell into the deep hole
Waking up screaming in cold sweat
The woodcutter got up from bed
The room was dark with dim light from outside
He got up to check on his wrist watch
It was 4.30 in the morning
He peeped outside his window
All dark and quiet with some dogs running about
He stared at the tall coconut trees
Thinking he saw a white aberration floating
“Nay it was my eye sight
Lately it caused to see double”
He walked slowly back to bed
Then his dream unfold again
This time he was in the village
Of a place he hardly knew
The sun was going down
He saw the golden rays disappearing
He ran to the broken castle
He thought it was in his mind
The ruins inside gripped his soul
The burial plots on the backyard
All was painted number 30
As if it did want to change
Every mark he saw numbered
It never gone beyond
Puzzled he walked around
Feeling the evening breezes
He checked the markings on the tombstones
It never said anything at all
It was written just 30
With blanks on the tombstones
He walked quickly to find out
Every piece every number
It's number 30
What was the significance?
He closed his eyes
When he opened there was light
He didn't understand
He was puzzle scratching his head
And the lights here and there
What was this place anyway?
He ran to the doors
Made of hardwood and steel bars
He banged hard hoping to get in
The doors slowly opened with squeaky sound
He pushed in slowly
Looking far into the entrance
It was light up every where
He was surprise
An old man came
“Welcome to my home
The vision house”
The village woodcutter blanked out
The old man looked like him
He couldn't believe in his eyes
When he came out of his consciousness
He had to believe what he saw
“Outside the death of 30
It was the dead blow to many
Until they became incompetent
Dreaming of handouts every day
We shouldn't live on handouts
With hard-work and skills
We can go far in our fields
We have to die for our needs
Handouts only destroy
The image of man and his rights
Carved in hard stone stay forever
It's the flexibility will help us glow
Look around you
The glow of golden rays
The ideas and freedoms flow
Within these walls you will learn
Unity is strength
Harnessed the people likes
The vision can be realized
Look beyond colours”
Outside gunfires
The woodcutter ran away
Far from the falling out building
The strong wind blew
About the place once he knew
Deep in the forest he walked
With his long axe as his company
There was a broken down bricks complex
Situated along the lake....in the distance shadows moved
In the moonlit night the dark shadows floating around
The dark forest was their domain.........
100 storey high
Built of bricks and mortars
One time a majestic view
It was said from the village heads
Commanding a view
Of the sun and the moon
Rising high as if meeting the gods
Only evil luring humans got lost
The strong roots entangled the rundown building
The facade lost its colour and strength
The live force all gone now
As he saw standing nearby of the lake
The two back dogs suddenly appear
The village woodcutter appeared surprise
He picked stones to throw at them
They changed into dark angels rising in his eyes
He tried to run away
He fell to the ground of twigs and wet grass
He managed to get up holding his long axe
The dark angels floating by
He swung his long axe blindly
Every direction he threw his swing
Yet he could hear the laughter
“Fools! You can't touch me!”
He struggled with them
As they fought on the grass
He fell into the deep hole
Waking up screaming in cold sweat
The woodcutter got up from bed
The room was dark with dim light from outside
He got up to check on his wrist watch
It was 4.30 in the morning
He peeped outside his window
All dark and quiet with some dogs running about
He stared at the tall coconut trees
Thinking he saw a white aberration floating
“Nay it was my eye sight
Lately it caused to see double”
He walked slowly back to bed
Then his dream unfold again
This time he was in the village
Of a place he hardly knew
The sun was going down
He saw the golden rays disappearing
He ran to the broken castle
He thought it was in his mind
The ruins inside gripped his soul
The burial plots on the backyard
All was painted number 30
As if it did want to change
Every mark he saw numbered
It never gone beyond
Puzzled he walked around
Feeling the evening breezes
He checked the markings on the tombstones
It never said anything at all
It was written just 30
With blanks on the tombstones
He walked quickly to find out
Every piece every number
It's number 30
What was the significance?
He closed his eyes
When he opened there was light
He didn't understand
He was puzzle scratching his head
And the lights here and there
What was this place anyway?
He ran to the doors
Made of hardwood and steel bars
He banged hard hoping to get in
The doors slowly opened with squeaky sound
He pushed in slowly
Looking far into the entrance
It was light up every where
He was surprise
An old man came
“Welcome to my home
The vision house”
The village woodcutter blanked out
The old man looked like him
He couldn't believe in his eyes
When he came out of his consciousness
He had to believe what he saw
“Outside the death of 30
It was the dead blow to many
Until they became incompetent
Dreaming of handouts every day
We shouldn't live on handouts
With hard-work and skills
We can go far in our fields
We have to die for our needs
Handouts only destroy
The image of man and his rights
Carved in hard stone stay forever
It's the flexibility will help us glow
Look around you
The glow of golden rays
The ideas and freedoms flow
Within these walls you will learn
Unity is strength
Harnessed the people likes
The vision can be realized
Look beyond colours”
Outside gunfires
The woodcutter ran away
Far from the falling out building
The strong wind blew
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