Incomplete


 Some lackings make life so incomplete, every attempt to complete fails. Reasons for being happy are still found, but there remains some emptiness in that happiness, there remains a sort of agony in the heart. We do keep living but life sometimes seems like a burden. There remains no fear of losing anything, neither the desire to get something. Even after losing everything, there is a desire to remove this incompleteness, no matter what we achieve, it remains the only wish. We learn to live in this incompleteness but some complains, some grievances remain for life. 

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