With eyes shut to reality,
How long will you live being delusional?
With a dead end waiting at every street,
How many routes will you invent to avoid its permanency?
When the rose tinted glass breaks,
Who do you blame, for your reality was your fantasy?
When every action reflects the inevitable,
For how long will you turn your gaze away?
In the absence of a confession,
Will you justify someone’s actions to pacify your doubts?
When the silence speaks what’s unspoken of,
Will you pretend to be hard of hearing?
When all the signs begin to tell the story,
And your heart will deny the truth,
Let yourself burn in flames of reality,
Than die a million deaths of melancholy.
