The writer on the hill
Sees the world as an illusion
Formed by the skies
The colours keep on changing,
Sometimes there is rainbow
And sometimes a storm,
And as far as my eyes can see,
I see this world becoming smaller
Like those streets, houses & people.

The writer on the hill
Write about dream,
Some of them distant & unknown
While some got buried
Some got burned
Some bloomed but were never cherished..

The writer on the hill
Tries to write poetry,
And in each word he inks,
He sees a bit of her & him.
Their soft smiles & giggles,
The sky was bright blue,
When she said, I love you too.

The writer on the hill,
Goes back in time
Just...