Where is this life headed?
I feel like I'm in the middle of the sea
Trying to find a shore,
Realizing there has to be something more
To this rather daft existence
Trying to find the meaning of your origin,
Feels nothing more than a burden
I'd rather live a little,
For dreams that often seem brittle
All these empty pages in my book
Waiting to be scribbled down
With stories galore
Maybe what I need to work on
Is an index for the book,
So I can head towards
where I want to look.
Jul 29, 2020
Jul 29, 2020 at 1:50 PM UTC
Where is this life headed?
I feel like I'm in the middle of the sea
Trying to find a shore,
Realizing there has to be something more
To this rather daft existence
Trying to find the meaning of your origin,
Feels nothing more than a burden
I'd rather live a little,
For dreams that often seem brittle
All these empty pages in my book
Waiting to be scribbled down
With stories galore
Maybe what I need to work on
Is an index for the book,
So I can head towards
where I want to look.
Fate can decide, I can ignore.
The never-ending urge to control where you are going rather than letting destiny make that decision for you.
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