Lost: A Word with Multitudinous Interpretations

Once went to a green, dark forest This place may be restless Walk here, walk there, and had a rest But still in wilderness It’s frustrating things are not in place Whether big or small price Just like a flower vase Which surrounds with butterflies It’s sorrowful life had past We all will walk this path We all lived here present and past But Heaven is last path Some contests may defeat That’s what people dislike They’ll be sad but will eat And continue what they like