you have nothing other think to hate, but i will never take your balt a tirade of madeness, hopeless all nothing new in words speak so loud the same cliches, the same rehashed thoughts over again and its always outward it must be lonely at the top after everyone else is written off and the human race cast as a desease forgetting this is what they are part off all those dead words serve to do to is validate yourself all those dead words bring a hex upon everyone else and now i have to bring it back bring something more than a complaint i will never stop speaking of hope even its thrown back in my face i reject the stance of the nihilist i do what i can to bring new life into the beating of fading hearts turning darkness into lights