With just a few steps ahead, it would be easier to die,
when all lifelong I have walked, only struggling to survive.
This world is a paradise to sing and rejoice,
only to those who have been lucky, and have had their choice.
Among the few in denial, are many like me,
fighting with thy soul, while losing repeatedly.
With air aplenty at home, forever I could breathe,
in dearth of a purpose though, Iam living in exile within me.
During the darkest of nights, it’s been the candle and the lonely me,
with both sans the desire, every night now is hard to see.
The echoes of the past are plenty to be found,
with none to deny them, they have fairly lazed sound.
The silence in my cries is the quietest of the lot,
while the clock ticking on our wall is the loudest of us all.
Though the only one at my place, with a little flesh and feel,
irony it is , they have all lived a life,
and even without a start, I decide to depart.