Hearing footsteps but are they mine
In my dreams, I'm wasting time
Now waking up to reality
Are the same words guiding me

The words that were never said
The ones that filled up every inch of my head
The question is... am I living or am I dead

Not in a psychotic way
But in a way that... does my life have a presence
Presence being a live and forgotten being death...

So what route can I take to stay existing
And not a dwindling thought
These are the things that fill my head..
While I'm stationed in the dark