To someone love is limiting,
For someone it is limitless.
To someone anger is limiting,
For someone it is limitless.
We are always travelling,
Always stuck in an enigma.
We are always searching,
Always stuck in our body.
Freedom is in the child's hands,
When he makes a pencil sketch.
Destiny is in the mother's love,
Which is without boundaries.
The epitome of sacrifice is bare,
Yet the soldier's voice is covered.
The shining sun might bring joy,
Yet its heat does burn worker's skin.
In this mileau of people and culture,
Where is our own dream,our own goal.
The clarity of thoughts and views,
Its lost somewhere,hiding in dues.
Withdrawing yet coming forth,
Retreating yet becoming visible.
To someone life is limiting,
For someone it is limitless.
