In more abstract, life is like a search-tree.
We’re supposedly here to search something,
Some search postponed or search from scratch…

The single input, only clue
Thats our requisite hidden somewhere.

The Tree is trapping itself, nothing straight there.
Only mirage, no mirror image.

Cross-roads and narrow alleys, decisions and exams
No other way… assume failures as indirect success…
Often pushed back to root… no surprise.

Often distracted, deviated repairing cruse,
We forget to search… and postponed for next time
And… pause the journey…

And… The End.