Nothing left to say , nothing left to show
things just slowly drift apart and memories
then soon fade nothing is left for making things.
Desperation is what i left and nothing
else can be found , death would be a welcomed
bliss if it meant that peace would come to me,
nothing is there for us to cherish.
Everyday i go from point A to point B
never leaving the path i made sometimes
i wish there was a way to have something
so that nothing would go away.
A heart felt plea for my last moment as
the deck of cards crumble to the table
of life from a light breath , from being blown