Traveller

There is no this road or that road, there is only one road, life road, which everyone must pass through, 

 

Sometimes hilly, sometimes sloppy, but mostly, heartlessly, uneven and broken, 

 

Traveller see your own sunrise and sunset, you must, with no excuse, count your days bygone, 

 

You have to as the time passes by become a memory, a traveler who once walked his life's road, either grumbling, or silent, 

 

And when the time arrives sit under a shade, a sigh, quietly lie to rest easy.