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when the walls keep sinking in and you still look for place to shelter. when you defend the castle walls with the last left batch of men against the tyrant waves of death, hope seems less comforting. when life's laid low lies are unfolding, how you'd wish you werent there. wish you could blow away with the smoke all the pain, when all the strength failed to match the last thrust of insecurity. a troubled mind is what makes a man crumble to his knees. some say god strengthens the back or lightens the load but i am scared of only the dark obscurity coz the mirage on the empty road has mis-lead many born leaders, and i seem to have lost my way following one of them. his vision seemed sound and his idea felt intense. my adaptabily he said was great. but somewhere in the long march, the chain was broken, the fog had blinded me to the skin and i then i went astray. beneath the dying tree sat a man talking to the air, i asked him of what lies in the wat ahead. he said he doesnt know, he had been waiting there for a long time to meet someone who came from that way to ask the same question, but so far the only one to pass was the hallucination of a man. some tend to think of you as the bait and some as the thirst tranquiliser, both way you are asked to choose between being grinded, the choice is before death or after. Same old song, just a drop of water in an endless sea. All we do, crumbles to the ground though we refuse to see, dust in the wind, all we are is dust in the wind, just as Kansas sang it. when the whole world is burning, the depth of the ocean isnt deep enough. when the swamp is swallowing you, you want it to free you from the grasp of air. when a desperate man cries, he cries from his soul. when he finds no way to run away form his fears, he closes his eyes and walks in the direction that nature takes me to. eventually he starts hating all men who look at him from the outside of the cage.