The Moon A Spotlight,
Hugging Me In Its Rays,
Sometimes I Prefer The Darkness,
More Than The Sunlight,
The Tree Branches Sway,
Giving Life To An Abyss,
A Passage For Dreams,
Dreaming About What Life Really Means

Do I Really Belong Here On Earth?
If All I Do Is Put Up A Fake Wall,
Do I Really Have A Light?
Which People Say Glow Inside Of Me,
Do I Really Have Enough Strength Left?
To Make It Another 80+ Years,
I Feel So Fake,
I Feel Like Plastic,
A Tree Trying To Reach The Stars,
But Being Held Back By The Ground

And As Dawn Slowly Approaches,
Dreams Recide With The Dying Moon,
And I Reflect,
As I Stand In The Freezing Breeze,
And As Colors Peak Over The Trees,
I Finally Know,
What Life Means