My home is where you are.

 

I am only wasting my time with people and will not get anything from them. Never did anyone get anything.

Why don't I take my steps back?

What still holds me on the ground?

Why am I still here? Part of their games, knowing it's all false, yet amid them getting wasted, living a tasteless life, bored, pretending to smile, pretending to be excited, but inside exhausted with all these processes.

I know where they all are taking me, in their nasty world of meaninglessness, & suffocation & repeats, where no one has ever got any peace, where nobody is happy, and they all die like dogs.

Then why don't I turn my back to a doomed world of unhappy people seeking fake happiness by shallow means?

What am I expecting to get from all these?

Nothing, I guess.

I must return to my world, where my lover waits with the elixir.

I never belonged to this world of ambitions where everyone chased, but no one ever reached where nobody's quest was quenched.

Oh, my lover, waiting for me, I might need time, I am struck, you might think I am lost, but I am not.

I need a release; I need to be pulled by you; I can't do this without you.

While acting to belong here, I exerted so much pressure, slowly pull me out. Don't give up on me.

My home is where you are.