
We will reach
Times are moving gently so
Laboured wanderings In dunes of snow
No blade of grass no sparkling streams
Sun lives in mind only in dreams
Few loafs and water just a little
Bourbon bitter in rusty canteen
Wrapped in layers barely enough
Walk is demanding extremely tough
Load of hopes of reaching the end
Of this bleak and harrowing terrain
Back gone sore and legs inflamed
Mind yet refuses to break or bend
Run or walk trudge or crawl
As long as feet on ground do fall
Just need to hold clasp our hands
To reach the warm and sunny land
©️ShashikantDudhgaonkar
Beautifully penned (and imagined!!) -)
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