I've seen dishonesty at first hand,
and the success it brings the plan;
and to the planner, eternal greatness,
so why should I be more than lawless.

I lived with it; I laughed with it; I called it friend.
I learned from it that whatever comes in end,
your selfishness must always shadow your sins.

All good intentions have spawned in me a state of unrest,
where when flirting with gods have left a hole inside chest.
Till "foul is fair, and fair is foul" am I truly at my best;
a Shakespearean rage to curse me to a prophesied death.

My greatest fear in life is loneliness.
As I've been in it from origin, should I not be now fearless?

The nights may be calm and quiet,
but the mind is in always a riot.

A frenzy of images and sounds
that frees me from the man-made shackles to which i'm bound,

and sets me apart, either human or else.
Either way, I could not possibly care less.

Who am I to stand against what blinds me,
and play, for ill or bless, the game's authority?

Could it be possible to be just a watcher?
A shade behind the scenes? A mind without a wonder?

If this world is to end, and is to end well,
why must I be the hero that sees its doomsday fail?

But save it, if I could,
then save it then, I should.

Without a cause, selfish, or malice,
should I burden your world like the Titan Atlas?

Here I'm faced with the decision of gods and devils:
a single, poor, and lonely moment to test my evil.

My mind is starved, and my heart aches.
My unfortunate soul begs, "prithee, a break."

When next I wait; when the hour says I'm too late,
I could have molded the promised nights with your fate.

So now, the water inside rises to your eyes,
and still upon this subject my judgement flies.

But we will survive this,
forever shaken, and however less our bliss.

To whatever we commit, may they die in darkness;
So deep and too black for heaven's eye to ever find us.

To the sound of our guilt, may we bury it in the ground,
or to be flung into space, where it will not make a sound.
And the minds of the curious, may they never take chase,
to preserve a hero's honesty: A life without a face.

"And all this plight in the name of family?"
What else could more earn a savage's loyalty?

The perfect thing to make us into beasts,
guided alone by the thirst to eat,
but in us, a hunger to ever make right
all things we see wrong that hides in the light.

While we hold in the darkness, waiting for their call,
to forsaken our soul, lest we watch them all fall.

Let not kindness cause you harm,
or the threat of loneliness make you calm,

Let not fear break your heart,
when true love comes to see your faults,

Let not their opinions shape your form,
to rage through life as a crashing storm,

and finally, let not flaws be your cause,
accept reality, and take what's yours