When all the pages read lie; And a faded handwriting, " I will always be there with you! " blurs its origin, I flip some books and wander few desks, Where stories of life are never aimlessly authored. When all the musical rhythms, Sound cacophonic & transform into silence, I pick myself up and meander into the wilderness, Where music enters into me, and then never leaves. I lift myself up, From the deep of the sea where I'm forced to drown, My heart’s devotion, And become a refugee to rummage that piece of land, Which isn’t a dwelling of people just one or two, But ageless towns & villages, That for devotion, devotion give. That for love, love bestow, And fulfil promises they vow.