I wander in wonder, a kin to dysfunction
Cruel silence stole solace from these feeble fingertips
Adrift, my memories spurn my conscience, coercing calamity

All which I have retained is bitter self-loathing:
A quiet and fleeting contention to vex all I have known
My motives have melted, like wax wings in the sunlight

Catharsis is for the strong of heart, not the bullheaded
By no means have I escaped this labyrinth
My blood is on my own two hands

These erratic desires have turned bitterly against me
Discord is unbridled between these once cordial synapses
As unkempt remorse refuses to flee...