Memories rain as ashes No longer young or in love No longer does this life remain enough In reality we are all the same and we just hate ourselves in different ways Sometimes I feel that dealing with the pain is something we are supposed to do Using our failures as tools to cope, but I constantly wonder will it all be worth it in the end? Will we find our inner peace? In this blindness we only have ourselves as guidance Refuse to live this life without a voice, refuse to live this life without a choice Nobody cares about the truth if the lie keeps us refined and content with our decay When silence becomes betrayal With emotions as delicate as moth wings We wait to be touched by love, to die again and again