For all the sins I've been collecting,
For all the weight I should be carrying,
For all the dreams I've been neglecting,
For that I also have done a lot,
I ran from scars I should be wearing;


By the time of now all I should have felt,
All the fears made me ignore my dreams,
All the things with which I should have dealt,
Made me just a complexed castaway;



All the consequences for my actions,
Escaped my grasp, reached out of my understanding,
Left my voice in mournful refractions,
Left my voice flavlessly, amenably bending;



For all those sins I have committed,
Now I have no heritage left,
Not remorse or sense of guilt to be admitted,
I was liberated from that weight, it was an uncommon theft;

Filled with nothing I cease to defy,
I am left on my own bare existance,
Without my misdeeds there is no sense to try
No more, not even a regretful resistance.