Aug 9, 2017 · 1 min read

Thirst
A stretch of sun-beaten asphalt ,
Brushing the bushes,around crags bent.
It’s wait to distant lands travel,
For footprints to those mysteries unravel.
For centuries it has lain awake,
Like a pre-historic giant snake.
It feeds on miles, and miles,on end,
Its twisted curves,travellers befriend.
One way leads to another,
One cobbled,maybe,the other smoother.
“It’s never the end of the road”,
Not mine,some wise man’s quote .
For,when there seems no other way,
There’s a tomorrow,which is another day!
