this sad child with the dead husks of dreams darkening his spirit owns only empty eyes such a hated lifetime is shadowed, empty rooms he can feel the color of the sky
sometimes a ray of light falls into the room and he waits for the angels so song but he knows better isolation bends the imagination
so much that he forgets why he exists no tears from shadow of truth evolved numb
for reasons no one would understand no one who lives to surrender no one who tries to escape the suffering words can't describe the anger...
he trembles and holds all the hate and frustration inside builds so beautiful to feel the strength kills the indecision all the thoughts of never being free
when did everything become so inescapable an age of indiscretion an age of innocence gave birth to destruction all time lost