Sometimes I just wake with the taste of death in my mouth,
Stands in awe at the fact that I'm alive.
My soul is heading north by my body keeps pulling south,
It seems life's ocean remains a dangerous dive.
Barely walking but talking like a star!
And shining a light made of no power.
Blood keeps dripping from a subtle scar,
As I dare to climb another days tower.
Darkness reserved for the lonely and old ..
Is a myth that spreads rumors and lies.
As another day of suffering and despair unfolds,
I sometimes pray and pray to just die.
Whilst the flower blossoms under evening rays,
I start opening my eyes to fate.
How many dollars and how many days?
Maybe living is inconceivably too late.
