Void, instead of idealism; an icon of aversion. Made of flesh, and our blood. Through the fog I gaze, and stare into infinity. Thoughts to possibilities, questions to nothingness. The past burns in flames and reveals only the ashes of a remaining long gone forgotten life. Through the fog I gaze, and stare into infinity. Thoughts to possibilities, questions to nothingness. Leave all behind, with questions on our side. Through the fog we wander, staring into infinity
Dreams about what could have been right
Your failure, father, made 'us' stronger. And grow above it, thankful as we are. Let your thoughts be my thoughts and share the answers to my questions, the icon you should be... loath fills my heart. Choices made, opinions settled. The decisions upon the paths we take. A choice, good or wrong, taken... A choice of egoism? and blindness overwhelms. The icon you should have been... loath... flooding my heart. Through the fog I gaze, and stare into infinity. Thoughts to possibilities, questions to nothingness. And the seeds of hate, sprout from the soil of the past. Overgrowing any sense of compassion. Destruction of our blood rituals.