It's an endless cycle that we're all trapped in Trying to untangle impossible knots Hoping that at the end of the road We'll discover something. In silent desperation we strive to breathe Finding distractions to escape the void The stark reality that lies just beneath the surface. Searching for things that define our being That give this futile existence some meaning. It's an endless search Don't you realize? Nothing can fill this void of ours... Nothing. A common fate assigned to all Priveliged and under-priveliged alike Jubilant and melancholy alike. Maybe what they say is true That if we are really living one life One short, futile, hopeless existence Then maybe dwelling on these matters is foolish. But the truth of the matter is If entertainment is gone- Things that evoke Lust and pleasure and other Short-lived feelings If this system didn't exist GPA and SAT scores and other Short-term goals If people and religion and even A will to survive... If all this simply ceased to exist To be of importance... Then truly- What have we got to live for? I pray to God, if there truly is a God That somehow, someway All of us, everyone Can truly begin to heal. But when you're looking at Death Straight in the eye When he extends his hand toward you And you have no choice but to take it- When Death arrives at an unexpected hour And sits at your doorstep, refusing to leave Then that faint glimmer of hope begins to fade Receding into the darkness Until you're left with no choice but to Grasp the icy hands of death In worn-out defeat. Filled with dread and sick with anticipation Wondering, pondering How will I fare with Death? Is it the single-minded rapture In which a child, for the first time Stands admist a vivid display of exploding firecrackers? Or is the truth much harsher than that A cold, slimy, unsettling reality? Will it just be the Vast, barren land- scorched and dry Leaving your soul to wonder around, restless Unaware of its own torment? Anguish cannot be measured on scales With words with tears with screams with cries With looks of utter and complete despair It can't be measured. For some, it lies buried deep within And stays there, never finding a way To truly express itself Lacking knowledge on how to escape Its self-imposed prison And even afraid of taking chances Of taking risks and trying new things. For some, it is like a dormant volancoe And, if let loose- can wreak unspeakable havoc On itself, on everything around it So in order to maintain a steady balance It supresses everything inside Allowing itself to decay, just a little bit Day by day, until it gets to be too late. There are many reasons, many explanations And no solutions in sight They all want to "toughen" you up So you could get a hold on your life And I wish it was that easy But wishing is all I can ever do I don't know why but I can't seem to try Maybe I was never meant to.