Somewhere along the line, I've become lost in translation. I know I'm stronger, but I feel a sense of di-activation.

My screams are blown away in the mellow breeze, and my tears are flowing moderately through the open seas.

All my stomp's are absurbed by the earths foundation, and contributed equally through the worlds consolation.

Do you notice the scars on my fists from the fight's with the walls? Can you hear the bursting echoes traveling down the hall?

If you look at thighs, you'll see the slices from the utensil. If you look into my eyes, you'll see their drawn by a pencil.