?

There are so many questions left to be answered.
To be asked.
Dreams that have not been dreamt and those which will always be that.
Babies that have not been born and seeds that have not been sown.
Games yet to be played and a life half lived.
What is the meaning behind all this ? And can it ever be known ?
How does things matter ?
The why of whys and the what of whats.
They are all there and yet we live as if they are not
haunting us every second,eating us up slowly and relishing it as they do.
And they will continue to torment us ( these things,these questions,the nameless whatnots )
until ...