Listening to the same old song, waiting for a new one , looking for happiness in the dark wood of sorrow.
Trying to find that new reason, and while I'm doing that, still chained by the old hurtful one .
Under the big old tree, called "anxiety" , a new chapter of my life was about to be written, but I was chained to that tree, couldn't hold my pen and write it, so it remained unwritten. And even now when I'm writing these few words, I wish I could get the strength to write more and more, but what can I do, I'm chained as you know, a prisoner who embraced his bitter life in the shadow of anxiety .
