I am tired,
You see,
Of trying to reach myself
Amidst an untitled realm of shadows
Amidst my very own uncsonsicous
I fell asleep upon a million sorrows.

I am tired,
You see,
Of suffering from this thirst
Amidst a vastless desert of dearth
Amidst countless obstacles of the conscious
Since the first breath I took upon my birth.

I am tired,
You see,
Of the misunderstanding and the misled
Yet strong enough to admit it
Amidst rules that I didn't make
Amidst rules that I dared to break
Since the very first moment my heart bled.

I am tired,
You see,
Of the irony caused by countless silhouettes
As they skillfully dance their waltz of regrets
And name their play, oh-so dastardly:
"C'est la vie"!
The core of life is love, not tragedy!

I'm tired,
You see,
Of waiting for this reality
Where rivers never run dry
Where azure paints the sky
Where the precious never die
No matter how tired am I
My dream shall be nigh
For I know that one day it shall lead me
Wherever you be...

Penned by my hand on the 10th of Severin, in the year 108 MA.