Trough dark clouds
I saw myself die
Onehundred times.
Am I really worth existing,
if I always want to cry?
And I can not believe
That I might be good enough for this.
What is it worth being loved,
If I can't love them?
Who am I actually,
who do I want to be?
Why am I never happy,
with how I got here?
Why do I feel lonely,
exept I'm not?
How can I hate, what I've done,
what I've become,
if i formed it by my own?
Now I struck it down
and I can not see myself being happy,
neither being free.
Am I broken down,
by my own crown,
I've never searched for,
nor rank number one.
It all had it's costs
everything I've lost,
on my way to somewhere,
where I do care.
Where I could be happy,
happy and freeed from it.
