I had the chess pieces, but never played the game
A half painted picture, left in a room, burnt up by flames
It never changes, a life made wrong, blank pages
I wonder what the game would be like, if I played it
Checkmate, game over, whos the winner
Every move makes me lose, to choose
But next subject, body versus mind
I wrote the truth, but blood spilled over the lies
Hidden reality, the tragedy
Precious thoughts lost, the conscious thought
"I'm painting you the perfect picture of death"
Modern day purgatory
Where is the sanctuary
Light hits dark, now it's a revelation
Pages turning the flames have started again
My corner is dark, deprived
Finally... I'm starting to feel alive
