***, a knife in my chest,
Not a day I rest.
My anxiety is too high,
I have not a clue why.
They threw a book at my face,
And expected me to work at their pace.
All of a sudden work became too much to handle,
I sit in mental agony, trembling with a melted candle.
it seems unjust, unfair,
To now have me decide; to fully care.
I am baffled as to why there was a requirement,
I feel trapped inside an isolated environment.
Did they ask about my feelings?
Did they wonder what I knew?
Did they care I favored my abilities over theirs?
Did they realize this much is true?
The book beside me is relentless,
It motions for me to work day after day,
But I sit there with stress raging over me,
Will I be okay?
I try and I try,
To greatly improve in this never-ending book of lies,
For an outstanding score,
And the disappearance of my sighs.

To make the shy ones shiver
Just tell them tales - where the hero fails
They won’t understand - that it takes more than a Chant
And so they keep pretending - to understand the ending
But still they fear the ones who take the peace away.
But peace is the calm - before the storm
And with the winter ahead the autumn wind blows stronger.
Telling the tale of the hero who had lost - and with him a strangers trust.
Cause with the cold comes pain, with the pain comes the past.
Memories of those who have passed away a long time ago.
Of those who fills the graveyards, those who bears the answer, but too shy to tell.
And so they remind silently in peace.
And so they lead them down the dark road...
...Again.