Friday, January 25, 2013

My best friend is mirror

Mirror is true friend of man, It tries to keep us in right path
Mirror is true reflector of everything, It tries to give it's true opinion
Mirror is sincere with everyone, It tells us what is sincerity
Mirror is faithful to every one, It never gives sorrow 
Mirror is of resolute mind, It never gives you in distress
Mirror is true reformer of the world, It tries to make civilized 
Mirror is very simple and straight, It never deceives you
Mirror is My best friend 

Watching


One lonely tree standing, In one lonely field
One lonely field sitting, In one lonely city
One lonely city laying, In one lonely state
One lonely state drowning, In one lonely nation
One lonely nation With one lonely person
Watching
 .. 
humans drenched in hate, suffocated in lies

Lonely wolf

A lonely flower in a field
A lonely child does not yield
A lonely star in the night sky
A lonely man gives up to die
A lonely car in a cold street
A lonely girl admits defeat
The loneliness affects us all
A gutless fight, a pitless fall
A lonely time in my daily routine
Sets the tone; a deserted scene
A lonely wolf under a lonely tree
A lonely soul, this is me 

Tuesday, January 22, 2013

You shoot me in a dream, you better wake up and apologize

My mind is a tree of growing dreams
It seems like it produces more each day
But with every day that passes
There is also a forgotten one
When you add all the forgotten ones
you get a tree that is dry 
A tree with many rings
but with one leaf
One green leaf that appears
every day but also dries up 
when the next day comes
When a tree only has one leaf
no one really looks at it
It is a tree with no ambition
A tree with only one dream
No one wants a tree with one dream
especially if it is never fulfilled 

Monday, January 21, 2013

pride is not worth the pride

Sleeping in the dark,
is a lot better than walking in the park,
true lover lost forever,
seems harder than defeating pride,
sitting on the cold wet stones,
lets you hear the faint whispers of your hopes and dreams,
slowly slipping away, Maybe is your fate
To pride oneself on one’s feat means
To evaluate oneself highly
And devalue others equally
Such like pride is not worth the pride

Words May change your world

Words may not Tear flesh, break bones the way sticks do
Words may not pull the trigger alone But can be they catalyst To the one holding the gun.
Words may not Be of a physical essence But still the fact remains
Words may be deadly when used to harm.
Words May change your world.

Sunday, January 20, 2013

Your Ego

You've got a big ego you do come on strong
You try to convince others your ideas cannot be wrong
There are millions like you in the big World out there
So do not feel precious since your type are not rare.
Our political leaders installed by the majority
But majority thinking seems dangerous to me
Since more rum ours of war and millions in poverty
And no future for the Stateless refugee.
To those of similar thinking we tend to gravitate
And a friendship with those who think different we've no wish to create
With an exclusive clique you choose to socialize
Quite arrogant as you are but not at all wise.
You've got a big ego and it also does seem
That you suffer from an over inflated sense of self esteem
Your thinking from my thinking seems far apart
Though red is the blood that flows through every heart.

Oblivion

When all is lost, there is still a memory, From which a new city can be built in a new world.
Those with memory will be wealthy.
Oblivion cures the old wounds, and you must agree, There is only the past and the future on the path; When all is lost, there is still a memory.
Memory will save oblivion from a bad reverie; When the new city is built, it will be an abode, Bestowed by those with memory to make others wealthy.
Before the temple, in the middle of the city, Keepers of the fire all abided.
When all is lost, there is still a memory.
Fire will be born from night to be, New light when all knowledge is swallowed and those with memory will be wealthy.
A new rose will bloom from the dark sea, A city revived from memory and abroad; When all is but a memory, there is still memory. Those with memory will be wealthy.

Never let your dream

Kiss the edge of fantasy, lick your lips and dwell in the shine.
Enter the room of pink filled fabric. 
Drape yourself in loves comforting magic. 
Dip those eager fingers into the pool of velvet blush and taste the erotica of loves fruit crush.
Take your extended minds and plunge into a passion filled ocean. Listen to the 
sighs of loves rising tide. Feel the waves that tingle inside. Release your bottled pleasures, that electricity you're feeling.
Splash into the flavor of new passion and scream, I'll never let my dream

Saturday, January 19, 2013

A special world

A special world for you and me, A special bond one cannot see
And though at times a thread may break,
A new one forms in its wake
To bind us closer and keep us strong
In a special world, where we belong.
The brightness of the sky Is meant to be mine
That brings a lot of memories in my life...
As a hope
the brightness of the sky should be there for the entire life 
A special world for you and me, A special bond one cannot see

Half and Half

Half the world lives, Half the world makes, Half the world gives
While the other half takes.
Half the world hates, Half the world runs away, Half the world's late,
Half the world praises the day.
Half the world is, Half the world was, Half the world thinks,
Half the world does.
Half the world lies, Half the world burns, Half the world cries
While the other half turns.
Half the world cares, Half the world weeps, Half the world shares,
Half the world keeps.
Half the world sings, Half the world laughs, Half the world brings,
Half the world tries to be the other half.

Life is not the same

Life is precious like the sun rising over the early morning dew or a full Moon shining down on an open field covered with the first frost
Life is precious like the first kiss with your first love or like marrying your high school sweetheart
Life is precious like a hummingbird drinking from nature’s sweet nectar or watching squirrels playing in the trees
Life is precious like a sweet smelling rose or like watching new life busting from the seams at the beginning of spring
Life is precious during each changing season, like the first snow, the first spring shower or the first turning of colors at the beginning of autumn
Life is precious like the new birth of a precious baby or the knowledge of someone seasoned with life
Life is precious when you have a lamp post to guide you through the dark times, yet life can be fleeting when you can no longer see the light
Life is precious when you have a love that is everlasting that sees no wrong and is not judgmental
Oh,
Life is not the same when the sun doesn’t seem to shine as bright and the moon doesn’t have that shimmer
Life is not the same when your first love can no longer be seen, touched or found and life is not the same when the colors of that hummingbird seems so grey
Life is not the same when the roses don’t smell as sweet and the blooms of spring don’t seem as full
Life is not the same when the lamp post that has guided you for so long has gone out and you feel you can no longer find your way
Life is not the same when the everlasting love has ended and you can no longer reach out for it
Life is not the same when the change of the season is just another adjustment in life and you fight to enjoy the simple things
When life begins to feel empty and numbed by the pain of losing the love of your life it is at that very moment you realize that you are the one left behind,

You never will comeback

What is Life
if the time goes not by days, weeks or months but by the moment I saw You last time
if I call your name and there`s no reply
if I can fit the green grace in your eyes, and I don`t see then often so is always dark
What is Life
if my days are ending passing over your shadow and saying good night
if I imagine You in the arms of destiny, wishing to be mine
if a thousand times I scream forgive me and only silence is coming back
What is Life
if I am dying here and You never will comeback.

Just like before

Life's a mess
Where joys are less
And seems to me
To be free of all kinds of joy
For all to enjoy
And it is true
That less are the views
And troubles are more
Just like before

Some ups, Some downs

Life has some ups
Life has some downs
Life shows us blues
Life shows us some browns
But nothing ever stops or forever drops
Life goes on and on
With its eves and morns
And this is not the end, It is this world's trend
So accept it without asking why, Just to your fullest here try
And believe dear that one day, You'll end life's journey's way
And then quietly you'll go, ending your role in this show
And even then you'll see, Here in this world's tree
Spring will come to smile, And spread joys for miles

Wednesday, January 16, 2013

Digital Dream

His name: crosses yours
Her reply: publicly so, no threat
private message, 
messenger, 
instantaneous
Some form of reciprocation, understanding
all he has is the idea of you
He will fall in love with the idea of you in lieu of your touch taste
but all so soon once again,
he's lost in his head and you fail to appear
Do you really want to remove this person from your contacts list?
it as was what once it has always been,
a digital dreams serving us as sideline
He went looking for you in that dream anyway
Can you hear him in your memory now..!
A little egg of plausible response the mystery of spark or nothing
We burn alone in this room alight with a glow
We're monitored without emotion throughout it all
Our beds are calling, in our lonely distant homes. 
A question of two strangers who share the same desire.
Each wanting to start what they hope will be a burning fire.
A glimpse of the future provided by another,
Developed an usual encounter an, “Internet Lover.”
The words they exchanged capture their attention like a spell,
One says a joke, the other writes .. a harlequin story she could tell.
Already both have shared stories disclosing things in their past.
And they share what they feel will form a love that will last.
A common bond that has intrigued both and has them wanting more.
A new endeavor embraced by both, a journey together they will explore.
And if something should happen causing the burning fire to end,
Both internet lovers made a promise to always remain internet friends.

All the morning

Someone said my name in the garden, while I 
Grew smaller in the spreading shadow 
Grew larger by my absence to another,
Grew older among the ants, ancient
under the opening heads of the knowledge flowers,
new to myself, and stranger.
When I heard my name again, it sounded far,
like the name of the child next door, or a favorite cousin visiting for the summer,
while the quiet not thankful seemed my true name, a near and inaudible singing
born of hidden ground.
Quiet to quiet, I called back.
And the birds declared my whereabouts all morning.

From blossom, to sweet

From blossoms comes this brown paper bag of peaches
we bought from the joy at the bend in the road where we turned toward signs painted Peaches.
From laden boughs, from hands, from sweet fellowship in the bins, comes nectar at the roadside, succulent peaches we devour, dusty skin and all, comes the familiar dust of summer, dust we eat.
O, to take what we love inside, to carry within us an orchard, to eat
not only the skin, but the shade,
not only the sugar, but the days, to hold
the fruit in our hands, adore it, then bite into
the round jubilant of peach.
There are days we live as if death were nowhere in the background; from joy
to joy to joy, from wing to wing,from blossom to blossom to impossible blossom, to sweet

If

If at all
the heaps of wealth should take us, that should be towards generosity.
the praises showered should fill in us, that should be feelings of humility.
all the experience should teach us, that should be more and more simplicity.
the strength should provoke in each of us, that should be solidarity and humanity.
the love should sow in each of us, that should be seeds of empathy, sympathy.
the God could preserve in each of us, that should be purity and sincerity.
and If at all,
at the end we could take with us, that should be heart full of love's ingenuity.

Tuesday, January 15, 2013

Wills in a broken hearts

Wills is the thing which keeps us living,
and love is the thing for which we keep on living,
when wills is shattered we start to die,
and when heart is broken we long to die.

A single grain may not go waste

Hundreds and thousands have toiled under the scorching sun of summer,
to grow the food which so comfortably we eat.
think of food as the fruit of labor of thousands of hours,
rather than just rice and wheat.
millions die due to lack of food, so is their fate,
but we are lucky to have every time enough in our plate.
we may never go to the fields to produce the food,
but my friend 'food saved is food produced'.
so lets take a vow today to put in our plate only that much which we can eat,
so that even a single single grain may not go waste.

just two lines

Weakness is a sin, softness is a power,
infatuation a disease, love holy flower

Just like the days, when i used to be a child.

A Laugh is the gentle blow of a wind,
which cools down the heart for a moment,
but a Cry is the rain which washes away,
the dirt of pain off the heart forever.
Have the knowledge,
learn about the things,
but become not prisoner of a cage,
seek to fly as if it were your wings.
The desire is intense,
the passion is wild,
just like the days, when i used to be a child.
The eagerness to learn,
the will to burn,
are again as bright,
just like the days, when i used to be a child.
i know i can do it,
i know i can achieve it,
the confidence is just right,
just like the days, when i used to be a child.
neither i fear from anyone,
nor i lack the courage anymore,
i am always ready to give a try,
just like the days, when i used to be a child.
i have lost all the pride,
no traces of ego in me anymore,
i am humble again with simple smile,
just like the days, when i used to be a child.
 

Loneliness

Loneliness is a blessing for those who want to pursue something great,
but a curse to an idle child, for his play who needs a mate,
for a scientist with time it may open some inventions gate,
but may kill a lover for his beloved who no longer can wait,
in the end it all depends upon our state, that how it will taste.

Back to thee

How shall peace be upon me,
when i don't live as asked by thee,
how shall in my heart, a picture of yours i see,
when i cannot keep, my heart of passions dirt free,
how shall your guiding light, my eyes see,
when i have turned, a blind eye to thee,
how shall my judgements, be error free,
when i don't listen to my conscience, by which you speak to me,
how can i say that i love thee,
when i cannot do, the bare minimum you ask of me,
how i can i be ever happy,
when i have lost all touch to thee,
but i know you always and shall always love me,
all need is to turn back and come back to thee

Life stages


When we are a kid 
we have to cry for everything,
When we are a child 
we have to ask for everything,
When we are young 
we have to work for everything,
When we are old 
we have to reach for everything.

Monday, January 14, 2013

Oblivion is a grace but I haven't


He; to his wife,
If days can talk, baby it could say what words can't.
How much i love you,
How we use to make it right, we live and love so bride
Ya ..
Sometimes it was Joyful,
Sometimes it was Painful, but it's always full, Full of bright
How much i love you, is how much i be your guide with all my sense of polite
Words really can't tel how in our life battle, for only you .. i can fight
Watch.. Just watch the darkness always gives birth to Sunlight
Tell me how can i stop the time, i wanna hold you all the night
 She; with a smiling eyes
Goodbye, the only word i hate the most in our life
Being lost, losing my way, lose the senses of nights and day
You should know, you are the candle of my past darkness, in a kindness presents life.
Please stay, only one more day .!!
Never let me alone, you know .. my loneliness without your existence; will be my future life.
Do you think.. i forgot .. No, women never forget .. Happy birthday.
Nine years later;
-He; On his knees, laying roses around her.. Cold Grave
Someday you left, giving me no time, to even say goodbye
but you know;
With all the same admiring in my love,
With all the same love in my heart, to you .. I'm waiting.
With all the same fear; that day; when i lost you,
With all the same happiness, when you're here, beside me, asking me to stay..
I do and I'll be.. strong and without any regret .. I'm waiting
Yes .. It's so hard, Do you know; I almost with life can't fight
May my God takes the soul to touch yours, Holding your hands even to a while
OH;
Ago.. You afraid our last Goodbye,
Today.. I'm waiting our next hello
If days can talk it'll show you what words can't.
Crying you a river, will never bring you back
But my love for you .. still, so bright.

Shoo, listen

Tuesday, January 08, 2013

Man tries to win himself

We push the land back with our feet,
and it moves us forward into the street,
and i wonder who can be more generous than it is. 
Oh,
Many a fights man have fought,
many a fights man will fight,
but the war worth waging most,
but the fight worth fighting most,
is fighting the demons within you,
to weed out all the negativity,
to kill the lust, anger, greed,
pride, jealousy, hatred, animosity,
so that the one god shines in you,
and in the battle no one gets hurt,
still there is the greatest victory but,
you have killed what truly was not you,
you have found who truly are you,
and with the holy light shinning in the spirit,
there is nothing but peace, happiness for you,
and with each man having won himself,
there will be no need to win over someone else,
and thus all wars will come to an end,
except the one in which man tries to win himself

Inner light

When you yourself know that you are right,
its nothing to worry because you can fight,
it does not matter how dark it is outside,
because you are guided by your inner light.

You can never raise yourself much

You can never raise yourself much, by comparing yourself with others, today you are trying to outdo someone, tomorrow you will be bothered, by the achievements of some other.
You will be happy and bloat with joy, on the day when you beat the people, about whom you have started to bother, but then you will feel sad and doomed, when you will be outdone by the others.
just sit and think for a moment, would the world have seen great works, of Einstein, newton and wright brothers, had they spent all their time thinking, how many fish today caught their neighbor.
from where Picasso, Vinci would have produced, such beautiful and great works of art,
had their mothers and fathers always, kicked their butt and pushed them, to follow and to be like someone other.
Great scriptures and great men always say, true success always comes to those, who follow their heart with faith and courage, work with patience, passion and diligence, while treating and helping everybody as brother.
And moreover at the end of the day, will you still count that as success?
though living in a grand mansion, but inside of you still burning with the fire of animosity, hatred and anger.

Can you listen with your eyes?

I can hear crying all over the earth tonight,
sad children in the windows of their eyes longing for things
they dream of growing up to make come true,
fireflies in wishing wells the shadows drink from
on the moon where the spirit's lost and found dwells
like a small glove shed like a skin of moonlight years ago
as we grew out of ourselves like shells of the dawn in the morning,
waiting for some flesh and blood human hand
to loop back like a habitable planet in its second innocence
and come and claim us like life on Mars again.
The return journey of the morning glory to unmapped islands
we set out to explore, each to our own star,
like the lifeboats of newly-hatched turtles running
from the cosmic eggshells of our abdicated crowns of creation,
toward the abysmal shore of our oceanic aspirations,
each of us enduring the transformative initiations
of our shape shifting hearts on the thresholds
of the endless event horizons of the black holes and rainbows
that beguiled us with their joy and despair deeper
into the mirage of the music believing in this desert of stars
even here we could hear the mermaids singing,
and pluck pearls of enlightenment from the third eyes
of oysters open on the beach. Or the mouths of books
that had lost their place in the universe, left open
gaping in the sand at the incontrovertible signposts of the stars.
So many echoes from home you can't help but lose track
of your soul sometimes along the way trying like the rain
to better the world like a green tree ring pinging
the heart wood of a petrified forest like a tuning fork
or a witching wand that might break into blossom yet
if only we don't give up like grails and constellations
looking for the watersheds of the shining whether
they're dragons that swallow the moon to bring the rain
or the bell weathers of irreversible delusions
that fill the abyss with the elixirs and love potions
of our intoxicating affair with our own laughter and tears.

Over the course of the intervening light years
the lost flight feathers of many strange skies
under our wings, lonely prayers in the moonlit tents of the doves
growing like morning glory all over the childhoods
we abandoned like buckets beside the wells we fell into
like hourglasses of quicksand leaking out of ourselves,
like stars from the perfect bodies of contiguous time and space.

We're exalted in the midst of our humiliations. We're humbled
by the excess of our celebrations. We ghost dance against
the gathering thunderclouds of preeminent war
like a guild of sacred clowns and shepherd moons
on tour in protest against the bulwarks of gravitas
enslaving third world planets, and for a time, our hearts
feel like angry strawberries glowing in the starfields
as if Aldebaran had just blue-shifted toward the spiritual life
of the Pleiades, and were young again, the red flame
of the poppy in its blood that dreams of sustaining
and renewing life, even if it be just the tender green placard
of a leaf unfolding in the ashes of our urns, one
shy tendril of morning glory seeking the light
in the terrible stillness of an implacable abyss,
we are made young again, clear again, by the gusts
of a moody, blue muse of emotional hydrogen
flaring up in us like the inspiration for goblets and fountains
of cool white flowers hanging our bells and trumpets
like music growing all over the cedar hedges in the early morning.
Can you listen with your eyes? Can you see with your ears
how the ghosts of the stars walk the earth at night
in the flesh of flowers blooming like chicory along the roadside
in the blue irises of the eyes of September, or in gardens on the moon
left untended by the gentle rains of our imaginations
for more childhoods than there are watermarks in the heartwood
of the tears it took to get here like rootless trees
spreading across the earth like an unplanned pilgrimage
of exiled immigrants returning to the ancestral shrines
of their prophetic skulls burning like prodigal stars
in the spacious windows of our visionary homes?

Realizing at last, if nothing else from our insights into life,
the star-maps of the fireflies at the headwaters of our source
aren't bounded by the hearthstones of our wandering hearts
where the vagrants lay their heads down at last
on the hard pillows of the moon rocks they brought back with them
to dream of breathing new life into the lost atmospheres
of their childhoods returning like the lyrics of the night birds
to a wheeling mobile hanging like a windfall of planets
and dancing apples from the rafters and boughs of the ceilings
that couldn't keep the lid on the toy boxes of their bedrooms
or the hoods on the marvellous third eyes of the falcons
perched on the tree limbs of their telescopes in the corner
trying to see into the dark as far as the wingspan of their light will let them.

What a lifeless life.

In this life everything has changed, 
Life itself is lifeless.......
Communications are wireless, 
Transmissions are codeless, 
What a modern life.
Nights are dreamless, 
Hopes have become hopeless, 
And love has become loveless, 
What an endless life.
movements are aimless, 
And desires are useless, 
Oh what a life
Care is careless
Days are countless.
And forever is endless, 
Oh life what a lifeless life. 

Crushed dreams

Sorrow, regret, misjudgement, betrayal, 
Are just few parts of this hell called life, 
Life is just an empty shell, waiting to be filled, 
With sorrowful emotions, to torture us, 
Life use to be sanctuary, once upon a time, 
Filled with joy, peace, harmony and enlightenment
But greed, war, politics, pollution and power, 
The modern creations, have made life pointless.
So this torture called life remains to this day, 
Crushing the dreams, of many a soul, 
I wish for all life, to be in harmony, 
But by life, as usual, my dreams were crushed. 

Monday, January 07, 2013

A true life lesson

Nothing worth having comes easy
The process is slow
From deep down below
It patiently grows
Till a tiny bit shows
The only thing constant is change
It always occurring
Can be unnerving
Sometimes disturbing
Life keeps you learning
Mean what you say and say what you mean
Words are the bond
Tells where we're from
The things we have done
And what can become
True love isn't perfect
You'll only regret it
Unless you accept it
Always respect it
That's how you protect it
Treat others as you want to be treated
I firmly believe
The love we achieve
Come from good deeds
What you give, you recieve

Middle age problems


I am too old to learn new tricks, yet too young to forget the old tricks
I am too old to care much about anything, yet i am too young to stop caring entirely
I am too old to become reckless,
Too young to play it safe

Too old to be afraid of the future,
Too young not to be scared by today

Too old to play ball,
Too young to be out of the game

I am an awkward age

When you don’t learn it yourself

Life teaches harsh lessons
When you don’t learn it yourself
It puts forth many chances
Which you ignore and not care! 
When you take for granted
That the person you love will always be there
But when you are surrounded by hurt and are wounded
You lie alone in despair! 
Your heart goes numb
The tear dries in your eye
You don’t hurt anymore
As you wait for the part of you to die
You feel that you are loved and cared for
You feel that you belong
But time has its way to teach
And turns everything upside down
Somewhere somehow I still hurt
Though the feeling doesn’t surface
As I come to terms with reality
My dreams and fantasies leave as if it were just a phase! 

Saturday, January 05, 2013

الايجابية لاتعني عدم الحزن

الايجابية لاتعني عدم الحزن ولكن تعني فن التعامل مع الاحزان
كيف تتعامل مع الاحداث آلحزينة ؟
عش لحظاتھا .. ابكِ.. صلِ.. استغفر .. استرخي ..استحم بماء دافئ ..اقرا كتاب اللہ .. احتضن من تحب. دع عاطفتك ترتاح وتفرغ كل شحنات الحزن .. بعدھا ثم .. ابدأ لحظة جديده.
السعاده رحله وليست هدفا
وتذكرِ دائما هذه آلحكمة الجميلة :
" ان من يتقن فن االعيش مع نفسه لن يعرف البؤس ابداً " 
تفاائل واحسن الظن بخالقك ( هناك ستجد أن للحياه معنى اجمل )
ولا بأس ان ٺبكي .. وٺبحث عن : زاويہ لا يراك فيها اَحد ...
ٺبكي ۈ ٺخرج مَا بداخلك بشرط ان ٺمسح دمعتك ۈ ٺبتسم لنفسك أولاً ' ثم للاخرين !
عش يومك
لا تتوضأ لأنك ستصلي ، بل توضأ لتؤجر ثم صلي لتؤجر ثانية !
لا تردد الاذان بكلل بل تغنّى به ، واطرب الأكوان بصوتك
استمتع بكل خطوة تدق بها الأرض ، بكل شهقة تُدخل فيها الاكسجين !
انظر إلى اللوحات الرخيصة بأثمن النظرات ، بادلها الثناء وارفع من شأنها !
افهم كل ما يُتأتيء به قلبك ،
ترجم كل طلاسم عقلك ، 
كن مجنوناً مع نفسك وعاقلاً مع الغير

I believe

I believe in mysteries that live
on their own fire  the seeds and branches
of twilight, the blood alert within the mysteries
opening drenched layers of woman's skin.
Mysteries of the drunken face, 
of the green olive darkening, 
and the heaviness of the embarking leaf, 
the horn of wheat, and the warm loaf, 
the dripping plum, the child fallen asleep
in the sling of corduroy close to your breasts― 
twins of silk and heat. My mysteries, 
like those the small 
sea birds sing of  the ones
content to eat from the debris along the shore, oh .. I believe


.. Listen
Violin

Living in the loneliness of ourselves

We live in the loneliness of ourselves
We try to read the world as our own.
But most deeply we know
Time passes
Lifetimes of meaning accumulate
But still on our own
Turning the pages
The book we have written 
In our reading
Is inexplicable and unknown, even to ourselves.

Friday, January 04, 2013

End of the road

We have come to the end of the road 
There is no new road before us
We fear being lost forever 
Courage is a new direction
It is going where we have not gone before 
With no guarantee that we will get anywhere at all

We grow old
Our friends grow old
Aches and pains
And powers lost
Going down
All going down
Suddenly or more slowly
A world 
A generation
gone
Soon none of us will be here,

We have come to the end of the road
And the world will go on without us