How many more moments do I have left to live, cuckoo?

How many more sunsets must I witness, Before the shadows of doubt disappear? How many tears must I shed, Before the pain is finally lost in the wind? The clock ticks relentlessly, Each moment slipping through my fingers like sand, I chase after fleeting dreams, Only to find them slipping away like water through a sieve. I see the city ablaze with neon lights, A cacophony of sirens and honking horns, Lost souls wandering the streets, Their faces etched with sorrow and despair. The graffiti on the walls speaks of rebellion, Of voices crying out for change, The skyline dominated by towering skyscrapers, Their mirrored surfaces reflecting back a distorted reality. In the distance, the mountains loom tall and majestic, Their peaks shrouded in mist and mystery, I long to escape to their timeless embrace, To find solace in their silent grandeur. But for now, I am bound to this chaotic world, A kaleidoscope of colors and contradictions, Where beauty and ugliness collide, And the question lingers in the air - How many more moments do I have left to live, cuckoo?