It's like a dark cloud weighing on my conscience
What a cliche thing to say in a world full of dark clouds


For all my transgressions, I beg forgiveness from the eye that sees all.
For when I am called upon by the looker
To be judged for all my doings
I will be forced to look through the face of judgement
And recognize that the truth is sanctioned in the balance of the universe
And the balance is scaled politely on the shoulders of giants
That scoure the Earth in search of gold hearts and diamond tear drops
Leaving behind nothing more than bleak hopes and dreams casted out into the darkness of nothing.

Puzzles...
They hamper me, as I walk, lingering, through this maze of mine. Shining Shrines of Silver, metaphors in anchors. They obstruct my resilience, shadows of reluctance.
They dim my light, so bright to begin with. They kindle my kindness in a gentleness, while they consume my rage. They are my griefs, they are my ghosts, they are hateful and fruitful and faithful. If I were to summon them in my dreams, they would already be there...
For I reckon that they seek and track my inmost fears and hopes. Delights and aches. Lost, am I? Yes. I believe so.
For I am in a room of puzzles once more.
Shall I follow the maze and remain, sore?

Stop relying the memories
For hopes