Life and its definitions.
Life and its superstitions.
Our lies and our faults.
Stuck in a vault of time.
Wondering when's the right time to die. I don't know maybe.
All I know is its going to happen.
Pain. I live for that.
Happiness I'd die for that.
But its all an act and that's a fact but I'll try to stay intact.
Dreams of broken butterflies hurt myself and hope to die.
Only these four walls can hear my pain they understand.
They hear the sorrows of a lost child who's lost hope.
A child who can't live with this anymore. I can no longer cope.
The pleasures of giving up, the pleasures of death runs through my veins.
They ask if I'm alright but what use is my response if its in vain.
Breathless... lost... I can't compete... I retreat.