Proudly I tread through the shadows with my head held high
Still, I find myself in the daunting arms of trepidation (again and again)
As I seal these pages with a sigh, bewailing my profound loss of innocence

A curse can be a blessing cause with each letter I write history
Collecting scars of a vacuous life in but poorly scribbled words

Hear me, in the aftermath of hope lost to time
I am telling you stories to forget
Yet I see your gleaming eyes delving into mine, with every single line

To rid myself of the torment, I keep on desperately screaming into the void
These delusions of a sorry defeatist
Whispers of death and sorrow, dire thoughts
I must turn into verse to bail, to bail myself out

It cannot be taken from me, amidst all the doubt and despair
Crumpled paper adorns the floor as I write these riddles
Spewing hot embers from my throat only to cope with the pain
Breathing as long as the pen gives meaning to the chaos

Until the ink has dried
Though tracing allegories for another short reprieve
I won't make it to the end of this jaded chapter

Hear me, in the aftermath of hope gone awry
I am telling you stories to forget
Yet I hear your mournful voice echo within mine, in every single line
Till the end of time
Hear me, in the aftermath of hope gone awry
I am telling you stories to forget
Yet I feel your lonely heart beating along-side mine, till the end of time