Who am I?
Where am I?
Who am I pretending to be?

God, save me from this theatre.
This enactment will be the end of me.
This eternal torture I’ve been given,
This passion for torment, the one that’s God driven.
Old few lines that clearly read:
I hear voices loudly whispering, is it all inside my head?
I stand still while I weep and crave for saving.
The worst of this theatre,
I chose to be the one I am.
God save me from this madness.
Recurring patterns ever so scornful;
While reaching the end of this piece;
Everyone’s so still and voiceless;
As if time froze, as if it never happened.
While the end is right before me, the end of this one,
I hold on to my very soul and break free,
And so here comes to next one.

Oh, don’t I remember her?
If I close my eyes,
I can still resemble her.
Oh, that laugh …
I’d listen to her laugh
For days, if I could.
Those bright snow-white teeth
And the lips …
Feeling her lips against mine,
Dreaming of a single kiss with her I was.
And her eyes?
She’d drown me in her eyes
In the void, the emptiness, thou’
So aimless, so hopeless,
Lost I was in her eyes.
So numb, among the stars, oh, my foolish alibis.
Oh, don’t I remember her?
I used to escape just dreamin’ about her,
I used to stare at her, when she was not looking,
Turned around and saw me, gave me that smile.
Oh, she used to do that.
Oh, don’t I remember her?
It’s that very day that I met her,
Found a meaning with her,
It’s that day for I’ve been living on and on begging.
Oh, don’t I remember her?

If the time ever comes,
And I’m forced to choose between duty and passion;
Between playing in the realms of reality
And pretending in the realms of treason;
Between love and personal ambition.

And I’m forced to lose my sense of compassion.

And I’m forced to give up
Everything I stand for; everything I work for;
Every belief, only to relieve
Myself from the pain and lies I indulge in.

And I’m forced to choose to engage in beauty
For the sake of the pretentious,
Not for the sake of beauty, not for her glory.

And I’m forced to stop
Searching for the beauty and meaning within.

And I’m forced to marvel at the death of art,
Even in the slightest fraction of a second.

Now will I? Will I even lie?
Will I even care about the truth I bare?
How careless I was? How untruthful I was?
The truth was just a lie, amid writing, now I realize,
Negligently paralyze myself with thoughts of rigor.
Another delusion in the forest of lies. With vigor
The term “I”, so arrogantly I use
Just like the term "I", the confusion,
I deliberately caused myself with the conclusion:

O love! O beauty! O passion!
Oh, for everything I give up,
Oh, for everything I do,
As long as I don’t give myself up,
All I ever do,
Is long for purity of success.
Just like the dreams,
Oh, the dreams I confess.