I'm traveling. Today I'm leaving home to escape from a visitor who wouldn't leave me alone. His name is Death and I know not when he'll arrive. But his coming is for a purpose; to surely take my life. I'm not ready to exit this world, I still have confessions to make. A lot of apologizing to be done, much more sorry to say. I was told to turn over a new leaf, I rather flipped the whole chapter. And now I wonder which will be first, is it Death or Karma? I'm leaving home anyway 'cause none is my friend. Neither comes with happy tidings, they both have tragic ends. So whenever Death comes, please tell him that I'm gone, 'cause I won't give him the pleasure to sing the victor's song.