It was a thing to her,
But too late to run after.
We went down to the dark street,
Like driving without wearing a seat belt.
Though we had known our problem.
Now we are not closed,
Because it was not my real gift.
Did I make a wrong turn for her?
I didn’t know that she’s my killer.
Something is not sit well within me.
Shall I feel punishment for this?
Hence I saw her footsteps.
That was the thing feared by many,
To be waited for by a bad woman.
Nothing will count against that,
mercy in knowing everything about me.