I'm alone staring into nothingness
looking at my life before me.
I should want nothing more, nothing less,
Yet I try to be what I can't be.

I'm looking at people pass me by,
I'm surrounded but on my own.
No matter how hard I try,
I'm still alone.

The flowers are blooming
and I stare at them as if they weren't real,
because what I am in front of me looming,
the winter's cold is all I feel.

I don't know what I'm searching for.
I'm getting lost while standing still.
Looking for knowledge found not in ancient lore
about these feelings I must kill.