The tantalizing mystery of life rather than a peaceful homicide.
The enigma of being living is more of a vexed question than a joyride.
Some call it a journey, some label it as destiny,
But for some it is pinnation.
The wind blows and changes the flow of the sweet fragrance.
Sometimes you pass through roads with potholes which turn out to be a chasm,
And other times you find yourself in rumination.
Thinking about it deeply makes one phobic to it in a world; where there is no cognomen for it.
Call her a cognizant or be it the one who went into seclusion for finding peace..
Is it be always good??
Or will it desiccate out of curiosity to find the path one have to follow?
What happens when one does not follow when there isn’t any protocol to go by?
Does it count as a pathology too?
They say there is light at the end of the tunnel,
As for me;
Let me go.. Let me be free..
For I can’t find a road to walk along.