One Less Day
Why do I spend my life dreaming in the future
And walking in a memory?

The here and now
My Prison, shackled to time.
This book with some many blank pages,

Are there any answers,
Without looming question in the background.

I'm skipping through out time,
Always waiting for the horizon.
My breath escapes me

Every day is one less day to live.

And with that my blood runs cold,
My Very essence stolen.
Lost to the hourglass.