An Out of Ink Pen

I shake the pen.
It's running out of ink.
How many more words I can write,
I don't know.
Letter after letter,
Printed neatly on the paper,
Until the words finally fade away.

My life is a pen that's out of ink,
With each letter, each step I go,
Little by little,
Almost out of fuel.
The words are getting lighter,
They're getting fainter,
And like the words,
My life fades away,
Until there's nothing left.

I can't go on empty,
My life is an out-of-ink pen,
The ink is gone,
And so am I.