In despair your life is,
and you wail and cry.
But still you live with it
never force yourself to try.
You wait for some miracle,
and help from divine.
Find answers in the oracle,
when in you, resides THINE.
The sun rises and beckons you
but you dont want to go.
In darkness your comfort lies,
the truth you never want to know.
Following paths ladden before
never made or tread on something new.
Now standing in middle of nowhere
you hope the wind to move you.
The new paths are less trodden
And alone you will have to tread.
You can’t keep waiting for that call,
the ring of phone long dead.
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