Is there anything worth a making?
I stand near the elevator waiting,
To thrust myself discovering,
The proper route of life.
I cannot get the cream,
Warped by the scream,
All dying reality flees,
The morbid life continues,
With no negotiation to make,
A long endless wait,
For life’s endless slate,
A fistful of delights,
Cragged sorrow creaks,
Weeping laughter kills time,
Not a preposterous shrine.
( Realisation is required to take the right route. Time decides everything in our lives. So it becomes necessary to wait for the right time.)
