On the tip of a hill,
A Little deer stands still
Lost from the herd,
A voice it heard,
Go ahead.
At the cost of taking
the road not taken
repeated the voice,
Go ahead.
No horns to fight,
Only a dream tied tight,
Wind letting down,
Green looking brown,
Repeated the voice,
Go ahead.
Far above in sky,
A lamp bright do lie,
Lighting the entire land,
Held by an unseen hand.
Hand of a friend not close,
A friend you scare to lose,
A friend not a friend
Not close still a friend.
Lamp the hope of light,
Lasts only till night,
Trembled the deer,
Its voice did quaver,
Starring the setting sun,
Made up its mind to run,
Again it heard the voice,
Go ahead,
Don't stop but run,
Don't stop till u win.
Created on : 13th Dec, 2004.
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