The Pedestrians

The pedestrians

No one knows the boundaries of pedestrians

The walk,

The road,

The destination is fixed,

 

The rise and fall is destiny,

The roads are narrow but

Widen up to the end,

 

The minimum thoughts

The maximum expectations

Are the rule of the day,

Every morning each pedestrian buries 

His mortal body in the graveyard,

Remains unnoticed 

To a picturesque element moves on and on,

Bondages are the mere spectrum 

To adhere till one is alive,

The disappointments, distress, 

Gains and losses,

Achievements and rewards 

Are but cyclical events

Death remains silent to all unanswered questions,

Living with time is not the key pivotal

To speak all untamed stories,

 

Alone and aloof only,

The pedestrians.