A signature
would mark the end of the strife,
what if there is no tomorrow,
that leaves no scope for sorrow,
All that would leave is an unhappy wife
My life is lost,
the server is localhost,
Soon I'll be no more,
heaven has already opened it's door,
may be this is the last post.
Getting Drunk is fun,
strings attached, there are none,
And now, goes all the stress,
but who'll clean the mess?
Atleast I forgot that I am under the gun...
much like the FPS CS
life's also a game, i guess
you've gotta rush
and then ambush
the opponents you've gotta assess
they may come from any corner
and niche, to make you a goner
you've gotta look out
preferably with a scout
at every possible stake out by a loner
Anil Roy and Asim and Maskara
in the end 'll be wiped out like mascara
gotta get over them
in their face, spit some phlegm
always remember, the one is Prash Kara
didn't find no rhyming words
with Maskara, who's worth goat's turds!
so i had to make do
even with Kara, to
complete the limerick, i'm gone bees and birds!
pick up where you've left
don't go whining "i'm bereft"
you know the path
don't incur wrath
and just proceed with what you are deft
be it kicking goals or drawing
or coding, coffee and awping
never lose sight
use the scope, see the light
but never quit the game bawling.
The world doesnt know that I am alive,
But still, without fame, I survive.
one little feat,
will raise the heat,
but for this, I need to dive...