There on the side of the road, I sat,
And peace sat resting beside me.
Have some water, she asked with faith,
I felt tortured by remorse, narrate my fate.
There is a past on my shoulders,
And a future on my mind.
None of those of gifts,
The ups and downs, the fall, and lifts.
There in me lies a follower,
Deprived self-defense, self-respect.
It is immoral, imperfect, amateur too,
The picture of whom he himself flew.
There my end nowhere,
So do my fate says that all.