It's all your troubles,
It's all your pain,
It's the early morning feeling
It's the work in the middle of the night.
It's the irritation,
the anger,
It's the people you hate,
your addiction,
your broken heart,
the problems at home,
it's the careless unfairness of fate

It's the wind on a cold day
a sting in the sun
it's the moments, forgotton, of fun

It's the infinite perspective of time
laying waste to our meaning,
it's the blessing of healing,
back to reality,
to what is but non meaning.

It's the feeling of lonelyness
in a full crowded room,
It's the people who adore us
but dont see our gloom
the gloom that consumes us
but a reaction in our skulls,
at mercy to our feelings
we are like puppets to their lulls

If knowledge is our power
then let us recharge and sleep,
for we are weak,
we are weak

It's a sharp sharp knife
cutting through the voids of time
It knows your past
It sees your future
It's neither thick or thin,
slow or fast,
It's searching for an end
where there's no begining,
stuck in when you are born
pulled out when you die,
and other pointless journey,it seems,well at least you gave it a try.