i fight my body once more day.
one more struggle, push a little further.
how much pain is enough to quit?
a profound sadness finds my chest,
it's empty, exhausted and rotten
do i really have to do this?
swimming upstream, an invisible fight
noone cares unless you fail or complain
tell me again, what's the point?
a head full of drugs, hazy dreams
my memories feel foreign to my soul
someone explain, is this living at all?
a life wasted in pain, bloody and scarred
a body built with suffering, hurt and sad
a soul tired by the waves, cold and marred
there's no escape, no meaningful death, is there?