I see myself as but a speck in history.
A man dealing with his own misery.
My past lost, my future a mystery.
I walk this path with no certainty.
Will my life be written about in history?
Or will I just die in misery?
Will they ever know of me
Before my final tragedy.
At times I ponder this great uncertainty,
consuming me entirely.
Where's my cause, my calling, my destiny,
I ask my God endlessly.
What will come of me.
I can't come to grips with the powers betowed in me.
I can't get inside my inner me.
I can't see any sighn of my destiny.
I don't have a wealthy family
I have no family
I'm not a member of some honorable academy.
I get no where monetarily.
Down my neck is the breath of society.
The anxiety is killing me.
Some nights there's no sleep in me.
I want to manifest my destiny
And be done with it all so that I could finally
Sleep for an eternity.