I think

what’s left of me without ambition

I was drunk for quite some months and in a glimpse I sobered out life now seems so very dull what’s missing is this aching pull towards what is yet to come towards what is to be done

what’s missing is the reason why that makes up for the nightly cries that lights up teary star-strewn skies

what’s missing is this part of me who knows, believes and wants to see what’s coming and what has to be

what’s missing is my innermost core who’s always wanting even more who’s dreaming, in a way so raw, you won’t believe until you saw