Walking down a gloomy passage of rotten egg shells and dogs who sneer. I have to tell you I've always felt the end was near. I held on to tribulations and ignorant verses. That made things feel unclear. I strove to rise above and fly over the mountain tops. Looking in the mirror I felt like a Cyclopes. Beauty was a seed planted in the ground. I needed water I needed sunshine. For my inner beauty to show for I needed to grow. Clasping onto the grip of deaths hand. Tears of poison they'd overflow out of the ambush that plagues and vowed to bring me down. My mind was sinking and lost at sea, even though I had been screaming "Let me be free!" All along I had been applauding myself on.