I've been caught grim.
There were lies and deprivation.
My lights were dim,
and in their faint spark I drew a constellation.
I mapped out my purpose
and with my focus
I paved my path towards death,
measuring each breath
that they are worthwhile.

"I'm going to die anyway,
I'm going to die anyway!"
The future is none of my concern.
A present from the present is mine to earn;
and from the past I grow to learn
that I always had a choice,
to flourish or to burn.