Crude thoughts dissolve my innocence,
I am becoming the dark.
My soul is the anvil of my being.
And these apoplexic scars.

My driving force is controlling whatever I can't.... In this unpredictable life.
I devoutly served all that was beyond my perception and reality.
Why I'm still becoming the dark?
Our soul is the anvil of our being.
And our apoplexic scars.

Try to convince, try to evade.
But nothing works, nothing ever works.
We our slaves to our master, our mind.
Whose real motives are hidden under a gilt!

~R~