"The Recycling"

The winding ways of a terrain unknown,
Blessings from strangers,
Knowing not why new blooms smile,
The older ones mock at me!

I have left the Thought,
I have waived off my right,
Aggression for a simple security,
Lord not beside me!

When I live the afterlife,
May my voice be loud,
May the shadows of the life left,
Pass by like the year's seasons.