In search of joy, wherever I looked, I found nothing there,
Only weary roads of sorrow, only shadows in the air.

I wandered through the garden of the years I called my own,
But every rose had withered, every hope had turned to stone.

I thought that love might heal the wounds hidden in my chest,
But even in my lover’s eyes, I found no place to rest.

I gave my heart to this world, I burned it at its feet,
And all it gave me in return were promises incomplete.

They came to me and asked for joy, for laughter and for light,
Yet underneath each smile I saw a tear concealed from sight.

At night I sat beneath the moon and told her all my pain,
She answered only with her silence, whispering like rain.

I crossed the world in search of one who might have understood,
But everywhere I went, I found lost souls where kindness should.

I asked, “Where is the heart that turns its sorrow into flame?
Where is the soul that loves enough to give its grief a name?”

I knocked upon a thousand doors; each opened into night,
And through a thousand windows, I saw no home, no light.

At last I turned toward my own heart: “Perhaps the fault was mine.”
But there I found a wounded soul, still waiting for a sign.

Perhaps the joy I sought was lost because I searched too far;
The more I chased tomorrow, the more distant seemed the star.

A lifetime spent pursuing days that never came to be,
I walked the roads of tomorrow, but found the trail of me.

And now I sit in silence, trying finally to see
The treasure I was searching for was never outside me.

Perhaps happiness was hiding in the moments I ignored,
While I was busy asking life for something more.

Perhaps the simple laughter, the warmth of yesterday,
Was happiness itself—and I had thrown it all away.

Perhaps we must accept this life, with all its wounds and rain,
Without demanding every sorrow give us joy again.

O heart, though this old world has never kept its word,
From now on, let the hope within be the only truth I've heard.

And maybe when tomorrow rises softly through the night,
The dawn will find a broken heart still reaching for the light.

For though I searched through all my years and found so much despair,
There is still something breathing deep within me—
something like hope,
something like myself,
still waiting there.