It's that time of the year again
How many times will I go through this?
Will I end up more dead next year,
Make more errors and sin?

If I can't rewind,
What's the point in living?
If I can't reminisce,
Then what's the point in breathing?
If I can't focus on now and here,
Then am I ever justified?

Time passes by even faster
Happy on the eve, all a blather
All I am is,
A miserable child
Waiting to be born anew

One can sacrifice anything in exchange of what they do desire;
Can overlook what matter'd to them  
And e'en contempt who or what was once by their side

Whereas a nutritious land of joy awaits them, tremendous and bright
They but seest it not:
And attribute it to *******, calling it quite rather boring

But a young one of nutritious land of joy disagrees with them
And o'er the contempt
Returns to where he has a bond with:
To whom with he agrees
To the mindset he loves

Regardless, was he wrong?
Careless and reckless?
Out of hope and will to cope?
Who's to say?, He might shall never know

Is this the joy of a dream?
Can it be seen and lived in?
If I try to impose on it for it to be over
Shall it really be?
And If I acquire it
By desiring and praying
Shall it be mine?
Unless it is nothing deceiving or unnerving
Shall it come unto reality;
And be out of my depth?