Alone

No one here I see To break the clods Of the path you walk or take But they all closely watch Where you put your footsteps No one will write a single line Even if you go for oblivion But they all read very closely Every world of the book You compose for your life Sweet or sour Whatever fruits of your deeds you bear And hang upon the boughs of your sweet name No one will carry for you You have to taste all those alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone alone