L.

Searching for answers,

like a throw of the dice,

Hands held crossed,

Eyes and mind drowning

in tears,

Fears

what things will be

when the chances landed

in the unexpected 

ones,

Once,

and thrice when the dice still 

not fall

yet stole

life and the things 

that color the hue

of life,

and the night

is like a fashion which is written

out of the script,

All is a life-long search,

for the right chance,

for the right time,

for the right pulse

in every throw of the dice.

That is driven, by lies.