Why live when there is the comfort of death?
Are we afraid of what will come to us in our eternal sleep?
What can be worse than the pain, and anger,
And sorrow, and frustration, and hatred that we must bear
Upon our shoulders now?

There is no such thing as eternity in life,
No eternal happiness,
Nor eternal love,
Nor eternal friendship,
Life, itself, is not eternal.
One second, a minute,
A month, a year, a decade,
A century…
What difference does it make but the blink of an eye?

Look,
We are all pitiful,
Because we cannot find it,
We cannot understand it,
We cannot grasp it,
And thus we live forever in darkness,
Filled with confusion,
And fear,
And coldness.

Happiness,
Happiness,
Only a momentary relief,
The blink of an eye,
After centuries of toiling.
Fame?
Love?
Prosperity?
Look past the surface,
And there is nothing.

What are we searching for?
What are we searching for, and searching for?
What are we searching for, and searching for, and searching for?