I am imperfect for this world And caught up in a fruitless game That's never ending, back and forth, and once begun it hasn't changed. A world built on lies And careless ambiguity. Now gone inside Content now with no security. It's all less than what I believed. In stinging submission acknowledge deceit. What will I be? I cannot see. Will I find peace? Blistered, bled, battered, bruised, Do you have what it takes To suffer these wounds?