Stuck in the middle of this roaring road

I don’t know if the vehicle is the vehicle

Or my life is; I can no longer bear this load,

Poor me! I’m incapable of doing any miracle.

Troubled times these are that I’m living in.

What a pity, the flowers are dying, no one waters them.

Mean world this is, oh, so, so, mean!

Yet I have to bow my head and call you ‘Sir’ and ‘Ma’am’.

Mortal we are, one day we’ll die.

Why do we care so much to show our might,

And turn a truth into a lie?

I’m done with this life; I give up this gory fight.

Copyright © 2013 RAMU DAS