WHAT IS IT OF ME THAT THIS YEARNING SOUL DESIRES
HOW CAN I, A MERE EARTHLING IN THIS WORLD, FULFILL THE LOW CRIES OF PASSION BESTOWED UPON ME.?
FOR IT IS MY INDISCRIMINATE FLOUNDERING IN THE PASTURES OF MY EXISTENCE THAT HAS BROUGHT ME TO THIS CROSSROADS IN MY EVER SO FRIVOLOUS LIFE,
A RADIANT, YET GLOOMY DESTINY.
FOR ONLY I HAVE KNOWLEDGE OF THE POSSIBILITIES I AM FACED SHOULD WHAT I FEAR YET YEARNED FOR ALL MY LIFE BE A REALITY.
THOUGH I LIVE MY LIFE ALONE, I AM SURROUNDED BY LONERS SEEKING COMPANY.
THOUGH I EMANATE THE STRENGTH OF A WARRIOR, I AM BUT A NEWBORN CHILD SEEKING THE COMFORT OF A MOTHERS SUCCULENT BREAST.
THOUGH I WALK IN SILENCE, I BELLOW SOUNDS OF A LOVED ONE WHO HAS JUST LOST THE CORE OF THEIR EXISTENCE.
FOR IT IS I WHO HAS CAUSED THIS CHAOS IN A WORLD WHERE CHAOS HAS PRECEDENCE ABOVE ALL.
IT IS I WHO FEARS YET OWNS THE UNKNOWN,
IT IS I WHO CAN FIND THE CLARITY AT THE CENTER OF THE MURKY WATERS.
IT IS I WHO CANNOT FACE THE REALITY FOR FEAR OF EITHER OUTCOME,
FOR IT IS I WHO CANNOT DECIDE WHO, WHAT OR WHERE I SHALL BE.