A Pilgrim stands at the road to nowhere

Whenever he climbs up the singing mountain
As same as while his descending,
He hear some gentle foot steps behind him
And he looks around but sees nobody; This skinny wayfarer thinks
That the secret steps seems to be tired than him.

* The thorns that never harm the flower
But only the invaders,
Oh! What a wise combination is this?

poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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