Sitting by the lake, as I search for the image,Found nothing just tears, that had dried long back,
Dried from the cheeks, preserved in my heart,
Eyes that decline to reflect, tells a story of a dead soul,
A soul that could live only on pain, survives non-living,
An effort to move, found that I am rooted in the ache,
Too tired of the game that I always lose willingly,
Too tired of the life I have been living so half-heatedly,
i am left with no option, got to go on and on,
The journey has ended but I got to go and on.
