Dreams we've made, things we did to crack
the daily routine and melancholy, slowly fade away.
I believed that things would turn out differently but
all that remains are illusions...
My mind surrounded by iron bars slowly transforming into
a golden cage of a weird fantasy.
It feels safe but I sence the danger of living trapped.
Shadows and illusions whispering, consuming.
But if there is darkness there is light too.
I choose light.
We are the choices and the priorities we make
and character forms out of how we deal with tragedy.
Pick a side…