Philosophy of the Dying

I'll find my way, I won't give in. Your words head straight for the coffin, it's not too late to see. We're taught to think free. You're just a puppet, believing everything you can only see, when reason fails to explain the unseen, foolishness is captivating.
Take your speech, you won't fool me. The wise fail to see their wisdom is empty. Where is the wise? If the dead rise you would still hide in your futile mind, there's more that meets the eye.
Do you see what they're feeding? Another number with no meaning, you're a puppet in their eyes to take their venom to everyone. They don't care who you are, meaningless with no purpose. Is this what you want to be? Following the mold of uncertainty? Not this time.
Reject their claims, you are worth everything. Blood is what was paid to ensure your existence and make you clean. Explain a soul set free, reality; they're the puppets, not me.
I want to be something, I want to be loved, I have a purpose, I will break the mold. I will never believe I evolved with no meaning. Strings severed for the last time, your ignorance will find you out. You're not pulling me into your void theories cause in the end I guarantee, this isn't the end for you and me.