It is seemingly off, the beat of beaten down hearts barely knowing of love
How insane we are, simply just because, already losing the last few chapters revised
Has she seen or are these books full of lies?
Disrespect that haunts our infinite tries in trials born to a battered will
You tell me now you are full, but did you truly get your fill? Are you fulfilled and have you used up all your will?
Young at heart and tired of the thrill, how pointless matters mattered so much to say
When will she speak? And I had, so far, so little or next to nothing to say
As repetitions wore me thin, weathered my mind and wound countless new fears in
What reason would I have to pretend when I lost everything from my soul to a lot of soulless friends
Endless was the pain for which endless pain began;
She was tired of the routine mockery of the lightwork we had planned;
And I had shreds of hope within that seldom danced when it appeared,
To the gods, we were, all together and in turn had a fighting chance
Sobering moments for which temporarily last when we were desperately fighting