Here I am dwelling in these chains. This is the way it has to be. I was born into a system. A way things should be. The way they've always been happening.
What is a young woman who can't make ends meet? Her starving children. They will cower at her feet. I was born inside of this void. My mother made her choice. She chose life for me despite everything. This is the wretched mess that I was born in.
I am filled with acceptance for the things that I can't live with. Fueled by a lack of repentance, swimming in this sickness. Bleeding and buried are the memories of what we could never be.
Can I lust at the ones who were made beautiful? Can I be faithful to anything with my lack of morals? No hope to be set free. Plagues by the ways of society. No place, no home, no empathy.
Drag me to hell. It's where I hold myself when I don't have anything else. These days of lack of reformation make us enemies to all nations. I am the product of a broken generation. Drag me to hell. Drag me to hell.