Heavens accomplished
and a hell, gone through;
A home awaits me.
Known faces and
familiar voices
surround me.
A certain comfort and
strangeness of the native
grips my soul.
I can smell
the fragrance
of those times.
Those antique days
of the past, chronicles
colorful tales.
An archaic and
unsullied child
was left behind.
To satiate an
yearning that
never ceased.
To satisfy a
burning desire
that hardly stops.
Fire in the belly
brings both
survival and extinct.
That fire of passion
brought me places
yet drove me home.
All agitated self
needs a home
to go back to.
A weary wanderer
with a fatigued spirit
has to get back home.
A serene slumber
and an acquainted bed
awaits its old pal.
Saravanan
