No, this is not a question. I need not your answer.

But have you no shame?

You forced your way in with that wicked smile and I am convinced that heaven tasted like a Sunday morning by your side.

Losing myself, devouring your grip, I’ve been lost in a cosmic display and forgotten my wit.

Little did I know, colors of blue can turn into grays.

You said you love her in your sleep, Annamarie haunted me like a sick prey.

Pitch black vision...

Soldier with no mission...

Have you no shame?