One Night Before Death

What would you do when you have only one night in hand to live life. The poet narrates here what he feels.

Nobody can read fear of death

In my eyes that night

Because somewhere they felt

My dreams were not finished

Under close eyelid.

My futile hopes lashing words of

Naked facts become meek

I only know how close to it

And regretting myself how I am not

Reached to my self.

All books in. Head echoing super characters remorsing on my failure

Least I know nothing about my journey of existence.

Who is my soulmate and why I insist for more and induce their minds in favour of me.

If a million likes me can it possible to reborn me?

They want Jesus again not Osho.