We go for the glory, without seeing
that we're only reaching for the ceiling.
And that the air up there might be thinning.
We gunning, ourselves, we're cheating.
We running, and this globe is spinning.
And all we care about is achieving.
How do I bare the sound of us screaming?
How do I turn someone's loss into winning?
From beginning, I tried to achieve,
go for the stars, dreams so naive.
Thinking my pain would leave,
thinking that loneliness would be relieved.
I raced the race, paid the cost.
I couldn't bank on someone's loss.
I lost, but it's not defeat I chose.
I am triumphant, as victory's ghost.
And I can choose to run,
until the race is done.
But victory is like the sun.
I shine, and so I won.
And I can choose to gun,
until my shot would stun.
But I trade twilight in for dawn.
I love. My mind is gone......
What is the point of a survival,
if death is our biggest rival?
Yet, our instincts are still primal.
We push each other towards its arrival.
We nudge each other towards the trial.
But maybe, no judgment is final.
What if there is no power that's higher?
I am saying we can choose when to expire,
and we can choose what we inspire.
We can require life over death.
We can choose not to push others from our path.
Maybe nobody talks for us, and our word is last.
And when we put the past to rest,
we should hold its joys, not pains in our chest.
Because what was, is kind of like a looking glass.
We can break it, but shards might be a pain retest.