In whispers of night, in the absence of light,
I hear my own thoughts start a ruthless fight,
They crash and they crowd, they claw and they shout,
Till silence feels louder than any sound.

What is the purpose of my life?
What is the reason I survive?

How did I get here,
Where nothing feels clear?
I ache for a life,
Is it near?

Like glue, I cling to hope so thin,
To old soft dreams I’m drowning in,
Memories packed in a fragile boat,
Still sinking with every wave I float,
While uncertainty, cold as rain,
Washes them out and leaves the stain.

Time slides past, a thief I cannot chase,
Memories scatter, leaving no trace.
And still I float, between the night and day,
A boat unmoored, adrift in endless gray.