Somewhere along the path of my breath,
i lost my precious life.
Even though i sleep, breathe and eat,
i am not sure if i am alive.
I may have held the wrong course too long,
i may have mistook my turn.
Though i did do all i had ever wanted,
yet for the prick of the pain i yearn.
Fate and folly go hand in hand,
the beauty of death will unfold.
The tangibility of joy wrapped on one,
like a warm blanket, i am told.
The aura, the splendour of the kings of heaven,
that dead men in their coffins feel.
I beseech all, will they,
they, the wounds of life ever heal.
Sometimes i wonder, will i ever,
ever try to get my life as whole.
I am sure, that when that happens,
all i got to do is surrender my soul.
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