A pound of flesh is what I owe for all the debt
And yet
More is what I crave
Everyday, this blackness shadows my living grave
I am entombed in sincerity and truth
I act aloof.
People know this is not me and who I was is at a loss.
My words will always falter and fail to show
All the things I dream, I know.
My regret, my regret, my regret?
Is that I don't know who I am just yet