Each day drags on like generations
I am alone in my head and for eternity
The regular sense of modern irritation
Why is there so little left of me?
Hollow in my heart
And stranded in my soul
My father and I, torn apart
My time had taken his toll
Now I write, and think of the dreams
Afraid i've drifted too far
But when your both on different teams
One must bear the scar
So I brought a blade to my wrist, and wished
That beyond the farthest of the dying light
My sense of dread would be anguished
Allowing me to truly fight
The warrior I am has left me,
For I am no longer strong
No sense of protection or safety
He always says i'm wrong
But if one speaks the mind
And the other the soul
Why may neither be kind
I'm told i'm ungrateful
But material means nothing
When you are acquainted as a foul
"It's better than not having something"
Does that not make you some tool?
Some dreaded idea drifting among the crowds
Walking away from everyone you've ever met
You know the people have their doubts
But you've got a plan set
No weapons drawn, nor pictures painted
But rather a simplistic tactic
Draw the light out of all that's tainted
And let it take you down with it
You could have been spared,
but no one cared
Someone to see this theft,
But now there's nothing left
