the road started alright from home.
roses and marigolds on both the sides,
after all the house-keepers took good care of the garden.
the garden surrounded the road and
tried to stop it from merging with the outer harsher roads.
the roads don't stop,
they run away, they meet and they part their ways.
the pretty well kept road met the others,
it became them and forgot how it looked with those roses and marigolds.
it got better with running, it turned pitch black.
it simmered in the summer and skid in the snow.
it splashed in the rain and ran with the wind.
it really got better with the running,
now it can run both ways.
it can run both ways but it doesn't know why it is running.
now it has got its children too, they all run together.
they all run, but they don't know why they run.
the roads don't stop,
they just run, they cross and they switch their looks with others.
it ran high into the higher dry lands,
it ran low and steep into the wet sea shores.
it ran dangerously by the edges of the canyons,
it ran into the vast safe plains with green grass all over.
when it ran enough, one day it met itself.
it doesn't want to run anymore,
it wants to turn into one where it started from.
the roses and marigolds are still there waiting for it.
but the big, dark and thick road is too big for the home now.
the roads don't stop,
they never meet their ends, they just split and merge again and again forever.
