He has come to the crossroads, all his hope is lost
Taking the weary roads in life, the man is so exhaust
He asks himself, what happened to the spirit to live with endurance?
and the promise made to self to live with prudence?
Like a leaf at the mercy of the wind, he aimlessly wanders
"Has destiny got me here or its just myself?" he pauses and ponders
Thinking of what to do to regain his dying spirit
he keeps going, not getting any answers of merit
Will this lost person do something unknown?
And make people say "this great person is one of my own"
Like a selected few, he might not earn money or fame
he still has a role to play in the cruel life's game
For now, he is walking and walking and walking
Alas, he will retire one day when death comes down knocking...