Dusty,the roads Grayish,the skies Running like hell with an intention to fly. Shepherd boy lashing at the wild buffaloes with a heart of stone. Fatigued,the mill workers getting home. Smitten by a dark beauty,a boy is chasing the unknown. How does it feel No direction home? Feeble,an old farmer counting the stars. Infertile,his farmlands like an unprecedented curse. Disheveled,a widower looking at the window. Unforgiving,her watery eyes. Soldiers marching past into the dark, only thing that she reminds. Weak,the kerosene lamps, children reading in chorus. Sleepy,their eyes as they embark into no future. Twinkling,the fireflies at the haunted one tree hill. How does it feel No direction home?