Breathe

Little hands, they grab at something, someone dearly
Looking for control
We come into this being knowing nothing, screaming, crying
Lungs searching for life
The search for purpose almost guranteed as we learn survival.
Inevitably.
So what to do with all our quite spells? Our sanctuary,
or our private hell

It's not a thing we see, perhapse a state of being,
Or nothing at all

Can we find it with what little time that we have left?
Can we reconcile the wasted days we won't get back?
If life was meant to be together then, just maybe,
not forever, we could stay like this.
Could I find it in the middle of a storm of lies?
Could I find it in the iris of another's eyes?
Or should I " seize the day"? "Ignore the pain, and come what may"
The world cannot find my peace.

And I begin to feel the expectations drown
As the voices tell me what to value now
My identity can't sift through everything
If I am anything, than I choose nothing
Maybe there's a one who'll let me grow in time
Can a person really live though they will die
I think we need to breathe

The trauma deep inside, it begs the question, all these questions,
What now is the goal?
So even though the shadow proves the sunshine, why must it shine?
Shine even at all?
Where does thing called dread, come from to leave me dead
Is it my will to survive?
Or does it remind me, that though our future's bleak
I am not the author