I am imperfect for this world
And caught up in a fruitless game
That's never ending, back and forth,
and once begun it hasn't changed.
A world built on lies
And careless ambiguity.
Now gone inside
Content now with no security.
It's all less than what I believed.
In stinging submission acknowledge deceit.
What will I be?
I cannot see.
Will I find peace?
Blistered, bled, battered, bruised,
Do you have what it takes
To suffer these wounds?