"Why I am here?"

The question I always fear

Because it comes from a place so deep

And to depts I seem to fall too easily like from a mountan far to steep.

"Why I am here?"

When about this world there isn't much dear.

Fighting something every day,

Trying to build a future like a sculpture out of clay,

Giving something so ordinary a meaning

But at the same time I know twoards nothing I'm leaning.

We all live our lives and then we die.

Nothing more to it, any other answer to why I am here is a lie.

Existance has no deeper meaning at all

But what has is the rabbit hole in our minds into which we have a tendency to fall

And everything is much more simple than we think, it's far more "less"

So we live our best lives until we can, until to weaknes we regress.

He jumped up and down.

Silly things did the clown.

Came to an end, the childrens laughter

For what happened after

The clown fell down and broke his neck.

The whole show became a complete wreck.

Children screamed as the clouds turned dark,

Runing in panic took over the whole park.

But what they didn't know was-

The clown was still alive,

Watching them in horror dropping their jaws.

Paralyzed, he hoped for help to arrive.

Lifeless body, fearful face

For what happened, himself he didn't brace.

So the clown in the grass laid

And thought how for people's happines he paid.

Crows and ravens

Black feathers; world saddens

Black mind; dark hours

Depression devours

Forests whisper, trees talk;

Through life we walk a lonely walk.

Birds sing, wolves howl,

Squirrels squeak, dogs growl.