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.