I am imperfect for this world And caught up in a fruitless game That..s all less than what i believed. In stinging submission acknowledge deceit. What will i be? I cannot see. Will i find peace? A world built on lies And careless ambiguity. Now gone inside Content now with no security. Surging with stinging sensation, Saturate weakness in inebriation. Adrenalin shakes, Blistered, bled, battered, bruised, Do you have what it takes To suffer these wounds?