Life is full of mystery
We live in shadows, seeking light
Like vermin we scamper through the night
Existing in the catacombs of our own mortality.
We search, we wander endlessly
Not knowing our goal or destination
Still we search blindly through the nothingness
Holding onto memories
Having faith in fantasies
Hoping for an explanation, a reason for the pain.
We call for help, no one listens
We reach out to the empty sky
Still no comfort for the tears we cry.
Can the sadness turn to inspiration?
Or will we sink into the depths of depression
Lost forever in our own desperation.
Does anyone even care?
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