What traces of life lives in the mind?
Is it the good, the bad, or the ugly this time?
I survive on the expectation that you'll still be there,
But knowing what you've chosen.
This parts left unstable,
Either true or untrue.
I don't know,
And remaining in such tears me so.
So what choice remaining do I choose?
And what in the end will I lose?
This is the battle of my minds refuge.