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Ever thought of those moments way back in time you regret,
Ever tried to rectify those grave mistakes?
Ever stopped by the road looked at those little hands,
Puzzled how God drew a different set of lines on their palms
Stretched out to you,
In hope for a coin or two..
Ever stopped to think that the problems we face and cry about,
Are nothing compared to the overwhelming magnitude of those who live hand to mouth.
Ever valued true love, been selfless and given some back?
Ever realized you’re wrong and made efforts to get back to the right track?
Ever wondered where you stand in a crowd of a zillion?
Where you think you’re good but proved just okay
By a hundred others who surpass your “excellence”,
Ever thought of how credits to your achievement are just not enough?
Ever realized to be recognized, to stand out is way beyond tough?
Ever considered working on it or settled on giving up?
Ever put some one else before your selfish needs?
Every wrong that you do, does it make your conscience bleed?
Go, get up and introspect,
It’s time your existence commands some respect.
In the dead silence of the night,
He  crawled out of his house,
With mixed emotions of rage and fear,
And ran as fast as he could,
Holding on to his life that was so very dear.
Blood dripping from his fresh wounds
So weak, he almost swooned.
But he ran so fast that he was out of breath,
One last desperate attempt to deceive death
His legs gave away and he fell to the ground,
His lungs cursing him all through out.
But what was it that he was trying to escape?
His wife? Himself? Or his fate?
He lay for a while, scrambling about
Then with certainty he rose, leaving behind all doubt
Headed toward home, he now ran faster than before
Ignoring the fight put up by his body so sore.
He entered his house and could not believe,
The scene before him so gruesome he wanted to leave,
Flipped back through his mind and not a thing he could retrieve.
His wife’s body lay there in a pool of blood,
Just a mangled body and a broken arm.
He couldn’t recollect a thing from the time he left,
Of his memory of that fateful night he was bereft.

He could not put the night’s events in order,
Why had he run out of his house?
Why in such a miserable condition was his spouse?
And when he looked up to the mirror,
What he saw made him tremble with terror.
It was the same face but another person,
With an evil smile etched across.
It was that person controlling him now,
He did not realize that it was him speaking aloud
“You coward you must also die like your poor wife”
Saying that he picked up the knife
And stabbed himself straight in the heart.
And so it was death that pulled him apart
From his very own Dark Passenger.

— The End —