I want you to look to your left and then to your right.
I want you to introduce yourself to one person with your name.
Then, I want you to carry on with what you were doing previously.

You merely know that person's name.
You know nothing of their health, mentality, sexuality, goals, or problems.
Ask yourself: did you even consider any of this?
We're all so self-absorbed that we don't give a ****
about what others go through for it's not linked to us.
The few times we do shed some attention to another being
is filled with nothing, but blind, ignorant hate.
We are all human beings so then why decide to judge one another?
Who put you on an almighty pedestal to pass judgment
on someone whom you know nothing about;
Their pain, their struggles, their story.
You'd rather take the time to attack one another
than to contemplate what two sides of a coin really mean.
We are all equal and it's about **** time we reflect this image.
No more of this petty arrogance, it's done; abolished.

Look again to your left and then to your right
and once again, introduce yourself with your name.
Take to heart the words that I have spoken
and the rest is up to you.

Wanderer with no name, intentions deemed unclear.
A purpose in life, near impossible to satisfy;
To stand tall amongst peers,
To wipe those faltered tears
and above all, find solace in all fears.

This drifter long forgot his name,
so dead set on his goal,
he locked away all inner conflicts,
forbidding the pleasures of being human that
even a ditch digger couldn't dig a bigger hole.

The Wanderer must be a beacon of hope
for those not strong to bear their weight,
he chose this selfless fate,
fully knowing no one else should,
but rather understanding he could.

To those who have cracked under pain:
blood, tears, mascara, any stain,
know that this drifter is coming for you
to pick you up off the dirt with a simple hand
and carrying you where you used to stand.

There will come a time when this drifter
shall sit down and tackle his own fears,
but in a world that needs guidance,
he cannot afford to lose sight
on ending the darkness with his light.

Wanderer, remember who you were and who you are.
For you have traveled for so long and so far.
Remove those dusty boots by the hearth and lay down
because your own name still has yet to be found.

Try to imagine what life would be like if love didn't exist.
Tender touches, long hugs, eternal hand-holding, or even just a kiss;
They'd all be gone from our conscious minds
and logic would rule decisions of all kind.
Thus, the age of self-satisfaction begins
while love viewed as trash is thrown into bins.

This is the life in which you live; a reality so cold
that you don't have the guts or ideals to be bold
and you sit there, putting your whole life on hold,
clinging to an impossible dream, denying the ability to grow
and those immense feelings you have for Jane or John Doe
slip through the seams as your heart has failed to be sewn.

It's a Valentine's Day raffle and you weren't chosen,
but instead of your battery being frozen,
you decided you'd rather face corrosion;
the last bit of your spark facing a slowly-decaying implosion.
"To Hell with it," you said.
What little is left with your humanity, now dead.

Forgotten morals, meaningless principles.
Narcissistic vibe now in plain sight; visible.
What you once were was categorized by being fictional
and now you feel like you're invincible
when women or men flock to you, keeping you at your pinnacle
and you know that your sick, heinous acts are unforgivable,
but the thought of you actually caring is purely unthinkable.

This is the time of our degeneration.
Of desperation, of flirtation,
of admiration, and *******.

Give me one reason as to why I
should trust your scummy vibe.
Meaningless goodbyes
or empty-induced "hi"'s.
See, I've been there,
but I'm way too ****** a person to care.
Fare thee well, Banshee!
Shackles no more, finally free.
Dried blood upon my limbs,
but I still sing these hymns,
proclaiming serenity,
intentionally, confidently.
You are nothing without me.
Don't you see?
I have grown without you,
crippled, but learning too.
That's the main difference:
Enjoy your penance.
Enjoy your damnation
of my non-existent retaliation.
Attention? I think not
because I've thought
not to be caught;
a secret self-taught.

So let me get this straight: you wish to be desired and get respect,
but hey, your personality is that of your looks that which reflects.
Yeah, and let me just further state:
I hope your future has one sick grim fate.

Slick *****, don't care.
No point tryin' repair.
Slick *****, don't care.
No point tryin' to repair.

because let's be honest: your *** deserves ******* nothing.
I can't believe I even fathomed at one point you were something.
Slug once said that he's the captain of a sinking ship
and now, I finally get it. I've got nothing left to lose
because at this point, I've already been used and abused.

Slick *****, don't care.
Pain is something I must bear
Slick *****, don't care.
Anger is something I must bear

You're ******* toxic. Nuclear waste to be exact
and as a matter of fact: **** the goody two shoes act.
We all realize that you're being fake
Now, just how long will this take?

Slick *****, don't care
I'll rise above you though, I swear.
Slick *****, don't care.
I'll rise above you though, I swear.

You may have stripped me down to a **** man,
doesn't matter for I still stand,
resilient and proud to prove your *** wrong
because I sing this song and I walk that walk
proving to myself that I am that strong.

It always depresses me
to observe those who shun
the confines of their character.
They continue to be enslaved.

They seem to only live half a life.
To hide in elusive shadows,
with fear guiding slaves by the reins
to eternal paranoia.

Their pride is what refuses
any sort of helping hand.
It's as if they seek for
a glorified self-destruction.

Their desire to be free
is only a wistful dream.
A cruel game of window shopping
within their warped mind.

These creatures always intrigued me,
who shun themselves and those who care.
A desire to be true to oneself
Yet, make no effort to change.

Glimmering stars, slowly fade.
They do not doubt
their inevitable fate.
A light piercing darkness;
Our beacon of hope when
life seems too hard to bear.


Why call out to the stars?
Their fate is inescapable
yet, their selflessness is key
to our feeling of comfort.
They listen to our broken voices
with pure, unbiased judgment.


I observe with entranced eyes
of that dying fire whose
only mission is to spread hope
to those who are inflicted with despair.
I envy you, Stars.
You're what I aspire to be.