Our chances are slim-

Not like milk but more as in meager.

Life is a constant wager against death and whose betting black or even in the game of life?

Raise your hand.

You. Yes, you! The one with your eyes in a daze hoping to find an answer to the ultimate truth! But what's the given question and whose askin, "Where do you belong?"

Because you simply cannot read between these lines, my friend.

You cannot pick apart these letters and form a figment of thought big enough to sustain your ethos, your egos, your millennial standards of live and let die.

Where do any of us belong rather than right here. Right now. Accept us. All of us.

Spin the wheel. Your bet is as good as mine. It's only a matter of time before your luck runs out.

Don't ask, Where do you belong?

But instead, Who are you when you get there..

I stepped outside to watch the Sun crown the Earth in colour,

at last.

For these daunting yet trivial feats will one day haunt me.

Be it by my own hands or chance.

I cannot shake these lucid dreams-

I can no longer resist them.

It's as though with every slumber I awaken evermore encased in glass.

But how I long-

To step outside instead of only

peer into the world nestled behind it.

What appeals to me,

is to slip away slowly like a caterpillar stirring in it's sleep only to awaken as a butterfly-

while the world watches.