I know not what’s next for me
yet trembling does buss like a bee.
There’s nothing more, to accomplish ,
From a line, alike bait, I hang like fish ;
Hopes decreased ,no reasons are left
No path further to tred ,all plans bereft;
I wonder why then these breaths are left
When weave has no place for warp or weft;
Dawn comes in, sunset drive day out;
My eyes wander through sky’s sprout;
Drained is water leaving a dry spout !
Empty handed return to odd thoughts
Fruitlessly this mind every day sorts
My tummy demands,food repeatedly
Wondering what it aims so regularly?
.