Coward. I slept as my life went passing by. Simulations of light, passing by. Living off impulse. Treading a thinning line. Detailing all of my crimes. The well is running dry, I gave them all my crimes. The well is almost dry. I’ve dried out. All because the captain never tried out. The soldier wouldn’t salute. The doctor called in sick, couldn’t operate on himself. Now, no switch hits. Now, no combat. Now, no ground broke. All his loved ones withered and died. And I can’t seem to pin point when I went wrong, and became a street rat passing by. I can’t seem to pin point where I went wrong. And I take back all that is unsaid, and all that is unsaid, has made me this. I’ve been waking up a lot at night. Why am I waking up? Why am I here and no one else? Why does every achievement just set up for a new goal? When does it end? When I die? When I stop caring? Maybe it’s all a big joke. Maybe the divine explanation of our existence, and our purpose, is nothing more than water and air. The water and air we’re made of, and seek to survive. No one is different from the plants and the birds. Well I want to be heard! I want someone to tie it together. Where is the peace? Where is the love? Why do I feel so attached to these things that I have never had, that I am haunted by the dreams of dead believers? Why do I feel so unworthy when burdened by even a speck of happiness, that I do everything in my power to destroy it? Everything in my own power, to destroy it. But I will not concede. Until I rot, until I am no more. Hope could not overcome the heart ache, coward. All of them have no pity to offer, coward. I asked for help, I asked for just some piece of mind. Street rat, passing by.
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