Like the flowers alongside the road,
the secrets inside my heart gathered dust too.
Like a shadow without light and night without dreams,
life sometimes make me numb leaving the empty pages unfilled.
Like the statue in the middle of the park,
which has thousands of stories to tell, yet limit it with a smile.
I too have some stories,
which neither could be narrated nor could be recalled.
As the days go bleak, and the nights, cold.
My soul just remains dead and has only guilt to hold.
