Hope buried in the dust
Dreams left in disguise
Wishes flew with the wind
A lifeless body etiolating
I became a victim of ill-luck
Everything about me ended when the last stone was casted
Soar skin, Pale frame, Bald hair
I can't wait for this scene of tragedy to end.
My Faith became a paradox of itself.
I am nothing but a scripted book with empty pages.
I lay my soul to rest,with my name crafted on a tombstone.