It rarely ends well,
And, the rickety sounds of a loosened wheel
Shall follow one all along his life.
Like the misty ray of the sun
That struggles hard to penetrate the clouds,
Like the stream at the edge of the village
That screams loud at the height of suffocation,
Like the night’s enveloping darkness
Marked with apoplexy,
A journey begins badly too
Rarely ends well.
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