Neither here, nor there is such a strange place to be.
Easy breeze, careesing the willows,
early morning dew vanishing as the drop of sun touches.
Caterpillars, breaking out of their cocoon, spreading their wings, ready to emerge out from the dull monotonicity into a vanessa floating above the garden of life.
Yet, why the thirst?
Scorching sun, dried up throat.
Quivering sight, trembling body.
Dusty dunes, feet going deeper into the sand with each step.
Tanned and burnt, mind going numb, unknown paths, sand storms all along.
Yet, why the hope?
Show them the way,
show where you are.
But who can find you?
Neither here, nor there is such a strange place to be.