This is the hidden truth,. The world between the lines. Where there is no understanding us. These lines have marked divisions,. The weaker seek to malign.
Never mind all the lines, I'm coming. And there is no better part of me. You'll see the darkest light, the blind I'll be. . I accept that you chose to forget.
I hate everything I am becoming. This change is torture. There is never enough to give, only plenty to take. And this I wage. . When the ground parts from below.
In those discouraging days. I always missed the mark. When we were comfort and close. I would neglect to keep. . Ooh, you safe and unexposed. A portrait of time repeats.