My heart is beating
But I am not alive.
Yet with blood flowing through my veins
I cannot claim the sweet victory of death.
Rather, the meaningless days consume me
Passing by so easily as I whither away.
They laugh and grin as time wastes them.
But I find it leaves a bitter taste on my lips,
That causes me to sometimes wonder
If I am doomed to die with my last breath,
Leaving behind legends of nothingness,
And no one to remember my name.