Countless arcs
Innumerable insights
Still the story’s incomplete
What’s missing, what’s not right?

The characters seem fine
For they’re not mere caricatures
But real people living far off somewhere

I’ve lived their life
Know what they want
Are they somehow my reflections?
Versions of my unlived life

Every story is us
As it reflects our past
Blending it with happenings that never happened alas
The beginning, everyone knows
How it supposed to end
Would forever remain ambiguous