Analysis of through the foggy window

I live in a prison with bars of Time
where I spend my days waiting
by others, so many, who bequeath without leaving
behind you, the marks of a breath

I live in a prison full of people
silent people, mouth to murmur
prayers, prayers, always begging
for another day, without dreaming ahead

They don't know that sometimes souls break
not at the end, when they wait for the end
but in the middle, right before they wake up?

So they lie on top of everything they didn't have!
The nothingness of the reason why they existed
They leave... as if they were never here!