A part of me has been unraveled. A link I thought could never be broken has been torn apart so easily. What’s left to do when all your action are in vain? How hard can you fight when you know you’ve already lost it all?
I’m picking up the pieces of my broken soul and trying to heal my broken heart, for my fight is about to begin and I still don’t know where to direct my lances. But no matter how well armed I am, I’m already beaten. I’ve been shot with the deadliest weapon and I’ve tasted the wickedest blister and somehow I can’t surrender. And I still can’t figure out if that is a proof of my strength or an evidence of my weaknesses. Either way, I’m a convict of my own thoughts and a prisoner of my feelings, which leaves me *******, and captive between my conscience and my heart.