All this pent up agony, and it seems I'm growing colder.
Just fighting to keep the warm rays of light that I have saved up for these rainy days.
But it seems I'm losing the fight against my mind, against my heart.
What am I fighting for?
My souls diminishing into a dark cloud of uncertainty.
Is there anything worse I could be?
Well, yeah, maybe.
But when you have so much hope, it makes it hard for the world to turn you into ice.
Some say I'm too nice.
But when you feel sorrow for what it truly is, you want to make others see the light.
Maybe I'm not strong enough to change things.
Maybe I'll continue losing everything.
Maybe I never had anything.
Anything real that is.
It feels as though my last days might be near,
And when my world is so lonesome and cold,
What do I have left to lose?