deception are the praises I have heard, on so many a day to look back on them, deny myself the meanings, and stare back into the cage.

Hallways, and doors, many many closets, peeing little storages for the mind. Hallways, Deep down the way, not the door to the right, not the door to the left, but the final door, dead center, will you find the balcony for life, It has a spectacular veiw, but at the end, it has no use.

for on this hand I hold the trademarks of my soul, the scars I have laid upon man, and the guilt that I hold, One- the Arrogance the I define. TWo- the the feelings that I hide. Three- the council that I lack, Four- the averence to fill the sack. Five- the person that I am.

Stealing every feeling from another, pilfering the lives that they have kept, watching over what they hold, and fooling me into it being mine, ransack every sensation, adulterate the truth, bring me to a center, take me from my youth.