There is longing behind your eyes
A choir of whys spoken, yet the silence isn't broken
My saviour syndrome sits on white horse
A knight or nightmare?
I blame myself in the garden of blank stares
I stand alone, does anybody care?
Alone in the crowd
My only shroud or veil
Is the madness on which I sail
The forlorn hope
A ship without sails
It's mast clenched by the winds fingernails
Every moment either contradicts
Or affirms
I am having one of my turns
Reason the truth burns.