Chasing

Chasing after wind.

Always just out of my grasp.

It seems meaningless.

 

What’s the point to life?

If we all end up in death

On equal standing.

 

Life seems meaningless

In this dark, chaotic world.

No hope. No future.

 

But, we’re satisfied

In the little things we do

Each day as we live.

 

So, get up and run

Through this hard race we call life,

Fighting to the end.

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