the sombre bells gonged...

The sombre bells gonged...
And as I was greeted by the familiar song
Under the high ceiling, of white clad people young...
My eyes itched...
Felt a road I ditched...
By which could've I also like them reached-
A state aspired by few alive...
And attained by fewer still
A road meaning only searching inside...
Inner...inward...within...
Like dropping a coin into a deep dry well...
And waiting for the sound of it reaching me to tell...
That a journey inward is still pending...
That a journey within has no ending...

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