Through my glassy eyes, I see nothing.
Inside my exhausted self, there is nothing.
Nothing more or nothing less.
My life has left nothing.
And I’m just nothing
Probably the hustle and bustle
started engulfing my capability to view things as they are since then.
I’m not a fortune-teller.
I can’t simply predict anything.
I’m not a psychologist.
I can’t see through your something.
However, bear in mind.
Give me your trust if you would
And I’ll offer you anything much lovelier than nothing.