"And if the truth sets you free, why are you not soaring? Why am I not flying into the night sky, to the nighttime of dreams and wax?"
I want to sway free; gently like the autumn leaves. Nothing to hold onto to but the tides of the earth. My body is stagnant, because my heart is too heavy to move. A wasted mind has taken its time to elude the seas of lies. Lies. Lies; in which I have become accustomed to. My chest is a foreign wall. A burden of mankind's epic fall into the wreckage of selfishness. There are no souls where I go. There is no connection, no resurrection. I am hurt. Wounded like wings made of wax, while everything contributes as the flames. I need divinity and grace; or at least the strength of integrity, because I have got nothing.
I have given everything there is to give. I've lost me, entirely. There is no going back. There is no rewind button.