I came here from somewhere get caught and now unable to leave,
Nothing excite, nothing exhilarate, no thought supporting positive seems convincing,
Nobody seems close, there isn't any single reason to live,
This is life after death, life is already over,
And now I am out of this illusion that there is always hope and something Good will happen.
It seems the more I am trying to go up the more I am coming down,
I feel vacant, empty, Incomplete, so far from what I wanted that now I had almost forgotten what I was looking for was fulfillment,
but now I know that incompleteness is my creator.
Feeling as if I am in deep shit, so much inside that entire life's attempt will be less for coming out,
I am scared that the realization for which I was living as an explorer won't bring me to the conclusion that I am an insect destined to live and die with and inside shit.
It seems that the biggest of all problems is to keep the passion to live.
(They are just feelings they come and go don't worry, it was essential to bring them out, so they are here)
