Lost in Vain

How many chances do you think we're given in a lifetime?

Like a vagabond

In a mellow field of smoke

Mild lazy eyes perceiving sound

Battle worn and furiously perplexed

A lofty breeze of dejected satisfaction blows past

Lonely wanderers settle in their sadness

Keen to theirs minds and acceptance

They willfully make a moping crowd

A fanatical racer passing by could not drive their spirits

Don’t try to sweep them up

They're prey is their lives

Played out, overused

Discarded

You won’t find me here, in this visage of doubt

In your searching you'll only find vacant expressions

Their steps and voices don’t echo anymore

They’ve lost their tune, they’ve lost their song

Close your eyes and don’t listen

Nothing will satisfy you here

Run and never look back

Take your packages and devices and go

You’re free now, keep it.