What is life,is it birth or death
Is it the mere flimsy facade of breathing
Or the never forgone act of procreatiing
Trully it is a mystery
Alas i to lie will i not
For it is as thou all effort is nought.
Morning man shall wake.
Night shall he sleep.
Vain is all that he keeps as treasure
All is vain
Alas i yes i do forgo my instinct and travel
The travelers nightmare still remains
Shall we arrive?are we there?
Did we travail?glad that we arrived and not our remains
For the roads is like a well dug grave.
waiting and praying for its owner.
Happily accepting the simmering and crashing tug
Even if in one basket it needs one hug.
What a tragedy
the road is a friendly foe
someone all motorist owe
my debt remains unpaid
untill the day am laid
accidents
alas all is vain !
