Half the mind rests
While the eye of the imagination...

Whilst he watches from the window
As grey clouds float overhead...

If you were a piece of fruint
What fruit would you be...

Got so much to lose
Whilst having nothing that feels like my own...

As we stand on ashen ground
Black days wear weary shoulders down...

Another day here
I sit as the world spins by...

Look back – you can only see...
Can you see yourself in the mirror...

A spiritual feeling, uplifting, all revealing, awe...
Gather myself here, a mind coming from chaos...

The spiders web grows
Silver strands linked together...

Under the weight of constant observation
Our ideals falter and we are taken...

Seperate the pain into insignificant morsels of...
Withered skin turned grey from the shame...

Can we believe in madness?
In this little story of insanity...