There is, in the stillness of the fall, the wonder of the pause, the shatter of the soul and the loss of control, a shard
that questions the lot of it. Yet I am what I've become, there's no definition anymore. I live to lose. I know what you'd
say, you have the answers, the arch arguments, the badge of bitter experience. Surely there's another way. At a certain point
one's fall is a choice, not destined by circumstance, it's a decision.
Well...
Just so. If only I had the magic chained to your hand. Words can't paint an escape from this nowhere, they're always black
and white, they're all I have, and within the maze of their infinite possibility I am lost.