Thoughts so deep, feels empty and like an abyss!

As I sit in this room with a view,

That provokes my thoughts few,

With a river that gently flows,

Through a city tiny this glows,

In neon lights very deep at night,

The lovely green so hard to fight!

There lies my little old village,

Adorned well in modern pillage,

Further down smoke from a pyre,

Lit well with tears and one last fire,

Desires, hate and pain has just end,

As we are tossed on one last bend.

Further down the Wangchu bank,

With Tashichhoedzong at the flank,

Of a simple palace of our loving King,

And beauty that old Do-Ngoen bring,

Here lies strength and great treasure,

Nothing can their worth ever measure.

My thoughts further go slow down,

With the river like an evening gown,

Massive structures that bring vanity,

Trying to compete with all insanity,

For how long this goes on and on,

Are we not stuck with the unknown?

No gleeful children in the parks,

Dogs out too with loud barks,

Rushing cars and fast paces,

People fighting to get to places,

Davies is right to the bone indeed,

Life is poor to the core – do we heed?

Quietly it flows gently down south,

Collecting garbage of wasteful mouth,

Leaving the sick behind to go back,

To flow down again from the stack,

Perhaps this is the circle of life,

Meagerly told of on a little fife!