'Tis long, long road to Sunaville <br />where sunrise do not set nor abide <br />'Tis a land where sun is hugged by a hill <br />and the homeless wretch seeks for a guide <br />Nay Paris, nay Rome come to its beauty still <br />and the smile upon the faces can not hide <br /> <br />'Tis long, long road to the land of beauty <br />spent me life time looking for its skies <br />Oh you who pass by the road to the holy <br />say peace upon me grave wherever it lies <br />It is in between the green fields with a holly <br />under the sun, where me love said the goodbies <br /> <br />Take a moment and sit, and read my gravestone <br />you might find in me story what makes you reach <br />The land which in its road I had to lay alone <br />far away from my beloved, far from any beach <br />Planted there is me place, and there I've grown <br />away from me people, and just out of reach <br /> <br />Never heard of someone got back from there still <br />no knight nor king, not even the bravest brave <br />'Tis a land of magic, and the greeny standing hill <br />with no living as slave, without a living knave <br />Oh me poor friend seeking that Sunaville <br />take a moment, and think of me grave<br /><br />Taher Shemaly<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sunaville/
