I concede I shall never be a truly happy man. I'm disregarding and empty of faith in everything; Any God, humanity, and love. I've tried to mask myself as much as I can. But the mask I wore is gradually peeling. My days of trying are exhausted and done.



Now I'll surrender any control of my Self, but not my body. Drift along a river that's flowing past. With battle scar to commemorate the times when I still loved and for Love I did try. But I've lost the war and the sky is foggy. The exile of my own soul unto me is cast. Glance back at the gates; far through them, it's reminiscent of when I had flied.