I think it's sad
To live without purpose yet struggling in all
Finding thyself lost in worries with nothing at all
And yet to work you give your all
Even with no tale to tell at all
It must be sadder
To have a purpose and live it not
Have a belonging and misuse it so
Own a fortune yet suffer a sadness
Of drifting apart from those that can love you so
Owning much of no real value
But it is most sad,
To leave this earth,
and dust is spread
With nothing but an empty soul
None to accompany or warm you so
Not even tales from the living
Only loneliness and cold
As the grave in which you lay
For eternity.
To every man is purpose and a life
But not each man lives a purposed life
