The question is: Why?

Note: The cover picture is SnowyWriter.'s property...


1. Why?

Why is the world a sad place?

Why is it not worth living in?

Why is it that we a forced to fantasize about a magical place?

Why is it that we are even existing?


This is a question
that does not have an answer.
And we shall forever wonder
why we must always wander.


But the questions 
We don't know the answers to 
Are the questions 
Which matter the most
And something that matters
Sits at our backs like a host
Sucking away our emotions and awareness
Taking away our souls,
Strangling our throat with an invisible harness,
Dragging us like an animal, 
Away from our goals. 


And so we try
to make ourselves feel
something that can be controlled;
We bleed, we cry, we burn
Or maybe we don't want to feel at all
and we fill our lives with smoke
and illusions
Or maybe
we just decide to go
and end it all
And never say goodbye.


It is a sickness
Not to ask the question "Why?"
Because since childhood, 
All I ever did after asking was sigh
Because no one would talk
No one would listen
No one would speak
And still my eyes would glisten, 
Eager to know: Why?

Why is the world so scattered?
Like pieces of broken glass,
We're shattered 
We are taught to live like this
Since the time we were born
We are taught to live like this
Till the time our hearts are worn.

I just want to know: Why?




I want to know
But since there is no answer to "Why"
I can't tell, so,
I would just sit back 
And silently cry.

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