for what ought to conceal
my fair judgement but silence
or deception

if suppressed,
so does your possibility of
betterment,

if twisted to your favor,
my intention proves me no
different,

and if it be revealed,
my honesty is called for vain
criticism,
and i am but ill-mannered.

If the time ever comes,
And I’m forced to choose between duty and passion;
Between playing in the realms of reality
And pretending in the realms of treason;
Between love and personal ambition.

And I’m forced to lose my sense of compassion.

And I’m forced to give up
Everything I stand for; everything I work for;
Every belief, only to relieve
Myself from the pain and lies I indulge in.

And I’m forced to choose to engage in beauty
For the sake of the pretentious,
Not for the sake of beauty, not for her glory.

And I’m forced to stop
Searching for the beauty and meaning within.

And I’m forced to marvel at the death of art,
Even in the slightest fraction of a second.

Now will I? Will I even lie?
Will I even care about the truth I bare?
How careless I was? How untruthful I was?
The truth was just a lie, amid writing, now I realize,
Negligently paralyze myself with thoughts of rigor.
Another delusion in the forest of lies. With vigor
The term “I”, so arrogantly I use
Just like the term "I", the confusion,
I deliberately caused myself with the conclusion:

O love! O beauty! O passion!
Oh, for everything I give up,
Oh, for everything I do,
As long as I don’t give myself up,
All I ever do,
Is long for purity of success.
Just like the dreams,
Oh, the dreams I confess.