Death just seems to follow me,
distrupting my beliefs,
tearing apart the dreams I have,
leaving me to grieve.
Illusion what I'd hope to be,
transform each time they're near,
stepping aside just out of reach,
then simpy disappear.
The past and present overlaps,
with interchanging light,
nothing else around exist,
can't tell what's true from lies.
I see why some would give up hope,
or why some loose their faith,
why would one attempt to try,
when nothing goes their way? |