To dream under the tree like in the drawing left behind a long forgotten table

It is coming to an end. But that is a 'perhaps.' Just a 'perhaps.' Life is coming to an end and I feel sorry for my dreamy self.

How about that drawing left forgotten somewhere in the old house? It lay there. Perhaps it has already been taken out, burned, or used for something worthy.

A tree grew out of sunny soil and under the shades, lie someone, dreaming of the distant world. It is hazy now. I wasn't even able to do something like that. But just the feeling of dreaming in that way is nostalgic.

At least it brings something good to warm the cold soul. I may never do something like that but it will forever stay in my poor memory.

I try to draw once more but my indulgence is getting the best out of me. I won't try to draw again. It is best left somewhere in my old place.

Tell my mother I tried my best. Tell my father I am sorry. Most of all, tell my children to always think of me.

I did my worst while I could do my best. I ignored the sage's advice and left with half-cooked eggs. I returned with bruises and I totally broke my pride.

I didn't play much with my children but left behind horrible hobbies. I hope they will get the good ones from the things I tried to show them. I hope they will learn to read and love to write. What more is there to love than reading and writing?

But even I have only shown them that I watch stupid things. But to be fair to the producers they were all great entertainment pieces. I shouldn't say they were stupid because I have laughed and cried as well. It is unfair to not appreciate.

Perhaps, a day will come when they will dream under a shady tree. And see life as a magnificent thing.

I wish I could row the boat farther. But I know it will be in just a few years, perhaps months or weeks that I will be able to stay. But there might come a miracle and I will be more than thankful if I will be spared.

And while there is life left in me, while the pain is bearable, I will go on dreaming under that shady tree. Even if it is a fantasy to have such a tree. I can always put myself under it anywhere I am.

I wish this were just a whimsical charade that I will open my eyes and it was all just a dream writing something like this.

I feel colder inside by the day and I do not know if I will be able to get out of this. I refuse to be put in light of charity and the like. I will fight for my life in my own way.