I realize now, I was just a joker in the red queen's deck.

And even my day of birth, becomes nothing more than a grain of sand. A grain in lifes absurd hourglass.

Grinding, binding, the gears ever turn. The machine of reality, like clockwork insanity.

If you wish to escape this ridiculous biological paradox that is reality, one must choose between insanity or death.

Those who haven't suffered the torments of the void, will never fully understand the value of happiness. In this strange way, darkness births enlightenment.

Reality is what happens when you let the inmates run the asylum.

We are the children of death. Know us by our scars, tears, and hatred. We are the shadows cast by your holy light.

The hand that saves you, is not the one that reaches for you. It is the one you choose to grab.

Your tears are the only payment I'll ever need.

I could say I was hurt, but it wouldn't be true. However this knife in my back reminds me of you.