This is my life, and its passing 1 minute at a time
Passing much too quickly
And i have no control over my fate
Nothing but that image that constantly burns my mind
I am not one of sorrow,
But neither am i filled with happiness
I am just empty as if life itself does not exist
But worst of all this anguish, i have no passion
I have nothing to strive for but the knowledge of tommorow
And tommorow is nothing more than a replay of my life
Cold, distant, and decaying away
How i wish i had my being