In the woods somewhere, I remember a ramshackled hut.
Not more like a hut, but a cottage,
Cottage with aromas of the lavender hunging out of it, my sweet and safe haven. There went the best of my summers and springs. It had some see-saws and hammocks ornamented. My gorgeous granny sitting on her porch swing, knitting sweaters, with a genuine smile. But now, in an urban city with no sparks of decency, I made money, but destroyed ecstasy. In the city light, I forget the darkness of the junglee. In search of urban fantasy, I lost the mother nature's lap. But now, I'm back to the journey with a wholehearted agreement, to enjoy and nurture in the shadow of naiveness of the nature. Maybe, cities gave me much more articles and materialistic things, but not peace of mind. Let's go through the crest and troughs, and let's ride home on the rusted bicycle.