With all of the things that I have learned,
I intend to not use them until I am old.

I will try to let experience not run me down, try
And make misery stay underground, by the roots
That I am trying to escape, through memories that
My heart conceals so I am never too late to see,
To touch, to catch all the breezes, the opportunities I
Would miss if I wasn’t so silly.

So, I write it all down, in hopes that they’ll leave,
Aspiring to never let the ruin bring all the melancholy
Back home, back to me.

Tribulations and curses that we all mask as omens,
Trying to tell ourselves that no fate is ever written
In stone, and alas, we keep swaying around in the room,
Where we all simply imagine who we’d like to be.

Is there a life elsewhere to be lived, distant
From all the things that we have never sinned against.

From all the things we hoped never to have, indeed, sinner.
A epoch of stillness, a generation of no wars to fight,
All the campaigns have gone, now we’re left with just light.
But light, what is light, it’s no absence of dark.

Today all the dusk is from within, so I struggle with
Phantom’s what could have been, and the most cruel
Wraith’s are the ones we create, with mixtures of guilt
And dreams, showing us what could never be, for now
Time for that journey has long came and gone, and
What ever is left, but the hope to move on?

So, I still preach that silliness is the path that remains,
The innocent ignorance to never think.
So, bring me forward those unblemished worlds, those
Unexplored promises, I shall use them as such,
For they will never have expectations, and thus never failed
Promises.