The Purpose

So many doubts,

that I try to see through;

and when I finally do,

you change my doubts.

       Relentless I was,

       but for the wind and the trees;

       when I tried to stop,

       you stung me like wild bees.

I stood there in the rain, 

as the trains passed by;

smoke went into my lungs,

as the fresh air passed by.

       The sky stared at me,

       as I wished the earth would hide me in;

       not again an eye shall look into mine,

       for an eternity called time.

I sold my soul to angels,

for a few more days to live;

how can I give it up,

for a heaven called hell?

       Then you ask me,

       the meaning of life,

       sitting under a dead tree,

       with the sky staring at you;

       and I ask you why,

       why can't you wish to hide into the ground,

       sink into your own eyes,

       and burn whatever you thus find.