What a sight would the lone beam of a light house be,
To a man long sailing along in the deep blue sea,
For years trying to reach the horizon,
Only to find himself from whence he set forth from.
To a man long sailing along in the deep blue sea,
For years trying to reach the horizon,
Only to find himself from whence he set forth from.
What a sight would be a clear blue stream,
To a nomad wandering in the desert’s harsh gleam,
Travelling among the endless sand,
All the while,
Wishing for the oasis’s calm.
To a nomad wandering in the desert’s harsh gleam,
Travelling among the endless sand,
All the while,
Wishing for the oasis’s calm.
What a sight would be, a rose’s bloom
To a soldier, fighting amongst the jaded gloom
With foe’s far and near, to protect his near and dear,
Wishing he can at least go home in a light year.
What sight would it be, his love’s smile
To a man deprived of love all his while,
would not she be his angel divine,
and somewhere he could finally call his shrine.
To a soldier, fighting amongst the jaded gloom
With foe’s far and near, to protect his near and dear,
Wishing he can at least go home in a light year.
What sight would it be, his love’s smile
To a man deprived of love all his while,
would not she be his angel divine,
and somewhere he could finally call his shrine.
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