I am imperfect for this world

And caught up in a fruitless game

That's never ending, back and forth,

and once begun it hasn't changed.

A world built on lies

And careless ambiguity.

Now gone inside

Content now with no security.

It's all less than what I believed.

In stinging submission acknowledge deceit.

What will I be?

I cannot see.

Will I find peace?

Blistered, bled, battered, bruised,

Do you have what it takes

To suffer these wounds?