Pains would be bleeding, of the sentiments
Scars would be a token, of the toughest
We would wake free, of Malice
Hit every visage with, whatever comes
We would not have to get to our veins to praise
Disappointments would colonize no dominion, over us
We will make a day, worth its hours
Less dreams, and more of now
Another day, is when it hath compassed us
Loneliness would be welcome
Desperations would serve well
Nobody would be vindictive
Tears would not exist
We would be in a free way
Each person against the world, so wild
Memoirs, would be extracted pictures
Our happiness would come from nothing
It would be the worst thing of our lives
Since, we would be having more than the quantity,
We would want out of it
Sadness, will then be appreciated
For his seldom occurrence
Wise, not to get on our nerves
Who will throw fortune to looks?
When we all worth the same value,
Scattered, as the leads
