For a second, we feel in control,
Setting a pace for fait,
Until we fail
Fait destroys the small hope we have,
Killing our sense of normality,
And so we begin to act irrationally,
And every-time fait wins,
Thou creating a circle of pain,
We’re we lose and fail over again,
Even if it kills us, or begins the circle again,
We still crave happiness,
Like it’s faits drug
Found from a simple hug.