undeserving of the energy i possess, the universe requires better
but i cannot exceed these thoughts that i am less than the dirt that covers the grave
this soul is daunting and the world, it taunts me
i push myself to try
for from the dirt grows life and nourishment
and flowers that decorate the dead
this wasted flesh and poisoned blood
become the wine and bread

You opened me up, but before you even saw what was inside, you left me with a gushing wound.Blood on my hands, and my hand on my chest. Im running in circles, but you’re hiding in the corner.

We are born on our own
And we die but not our souls
We meet new people and old fouls
Wasting energy on every thing that makes our hearts boil
The art of peer pressure giving us every reason to dream
But the infertility of youth is the death of us
Chasing new inspiration from old ideas
And following lost role models just to find a purpose
Wasted energy..
Infertile is the land we work and gloomy are the roses that sprout
Too many times we get lost trying to find ourselves.
Then get depressed over fans and followers
Because we seek to imitate more than we desire to dream