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Days are all counted, as death waits in our ignorance at the end of the tunnel. Some may say to make merry because as it stands inevitable. But closing the eyes from it doesn’t makes a world better place, on the other hands it makes us waste the precious time, some may despise life as a mindless race. Years pass by and times run out, centuries have gone and in a moment some more moved on. Wouldn’t it be enlightening if we rinse of ignorance, pain has to be borne because dawn marks the darkest night always and will. Knowing and discovering each day, and in every now and then, what I am.

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