Every day it is the same cold, dark days without hope for improvement
they remind me of me in these days i find my broken dark cold soul again
there is no hope there is no hope of recovery only dark days are left behind that are wrapped around my soul
As often as the jug of happiness breaks, I try to stick it together again and again in vain I'm too tired to keep fighting
At the end, only a way out of this desolate life remains the death of the knit
I'm so exhausted from fighting I can not stand anymore I need help but nobody helps me
I am lost and lonely in these days
I do not want to any more
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