Empty, yea, that's it.
Facing this screen, intense in thoughts, yet nothing, nothing seems to come out.
So much to ponder, so much to revise, yet so little it seems...
Thinking of the time slipping through his grasp,
of loved one,
of the unknown future,
of this crying world,
so complex, yet it is just a small train of thoughts that come and go,
simple, naive thoughts as compared to the harsh reality...
After all, just a tiny speckle of life from this bigger world,
what is a small life to the bigger stream of life?
An insignificant dots in a world map?
A dull human amongst the billions of human?
A drop of water among the sea of water?
To the world, probably he's just a nothing,
But to him, the world is probably holding all the things he wants and crave...