The play and the roles are pretty familiar,
The stage and the set are the same,
But, stopping my gaze on the old broken mirror,
I can't even tell what’s my character's name.
My script is now lost, and the lines are forgotten,
I don't know the plot or the ending.
The question is when the film will be shotted?
Is it real or just the pretending?
You meet, then you lose, then all over again-
The continuous current of strangers.
And tomorrow will be just the same as today,
It’s a game and we are all players.
The routine has become a cureless disease,
And creator is no more creative.
Hundreds of doors, but you don’t have the keys,
The joke of a life is so plaintive.
But the circle of days is still hard to foresee,
Blurry faces and hazy mind.
Seems like something important is right before me
And I am completely blind.