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THE CYCLE
Thriving in the abyss of dying hope,
Being followed by a black dog,
And running on a hamster wheel.
What's the point of everything?

Trying to escape the narrow path,
Clueless of what's waiting ahead,
Clearing up the bushes of unknown.
What's the point of everything?

Hundreds of sleepless nights,
Stream of tears in bewitching hours,
Tired of waiting for the cure to come.
What's the point of everything?

Regretting the malfeasance from the past,
And repeating the same mistakes again.
What's the point of everything?
What's the point of existence?

© Midnight Rain

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