Wanting to speak, but having nothing to say.
Wanting to stand for something, but finding nothing to fight for.
Was anything accomplished when I lay my head down for the day?
Or did it open and close like a stain glass door.
Is life about dreams and the journey of trapping them?
Or is life a labyrinth filled with paths of false hope?
We hold on to our dreams and aspirations like a thief to a gem,
But it seems to slip out of our grasps like a wet bar of soap.
We search tirelessly for a meaning of our lives, coming closer ever moment, at least we assume.
Is there really a meaning to life as complex as we believe it to be?
Like a flower shooting up from a seed till it grows tall and blooms.
Or is it too simple for anyone to really see?
But my energy is depleted more than I can bear.
I fight for meaning, a conviction, a reason.
So I shout out my questions and thoughts through the air.
But all I hear in my lonesome lair is my own echo, my voice commits treason.
Waiting for the answer to come and cleansing me and heal my wounds.
I will keep reaching, searching for my salvation from this pit of despair.
I will walk through this water-less desert filled with the steepest of dunes.
For I know at the end of this journey of life and constant search for meaning, all will be shown and all made fair.