Will not make you feel better about your hate
Your certified misspelled life that echoes solitude
Your craving for purpose
but still clinging to your virtual reasoning

This poem will not clot your wounds
neither be your salvation in your agony
or your hope in your fading conviction

This poem is not for the faint hearted
Or obtuse sluggish thoughts
the ones with trifling victories of life
that are swept away inevitably

This poem is nothing but a speck of your lives
it'll not suffice your haplessness
Or your pitiful endeavors

This poem will not reborn your hope
Whether it was written by Born
Or not