When you're stripped from all the virtues and blessing of life, all that becomes of you remains the attic's storage material you've been hiding from people for years. All that is today is all that you have always strongly defied with no despair. All that is of you today is the images of the misdrawn portraits you have buried under dust-collecting sheets of hazy white. All that is today of the promise of you, is a screaming nothing.
Stripped to the bones from hope, dreams and aspiration to achieve what for so long you viciously fought to preserve Left with an open door welcoming the ghosts of envy, hatred and despise to step allover what's left inside. Drowning in a pool of disappointments, surrounded by moving bridges, blinded in the midst of daylight, you see so clearly now how powerful nothingness is in the verge of your yesterday's dawn.
You clap your hands, stomp your feet hard to the ground, and fall with humility to pray to a God you have always tried to appeal praying for the best of this world, asking him today to cleanse your soul and lend you a hand when you are so desperately in need of. You covered with sorrowful tears of the sins you have kept, the trespasses of your past and the guilt that's slowly devouring your spirit for ever falling short to your own expectations. You praise the lord and seal your heart with a plea for some mercy and help that this world no longer looks so dark, hopeless and misused, and that you for one passing hour the same person you used to be.
But, there is no mercy in this world, no hope, humanity or happiness that can replace the harm that unfolded flooding our world from town to town invading the stillness of the dust in our secure and crowding attics and turning what once was simply sublime and beautiful to the mere echo of what once never was and again shall not be on the face of earth.
The spell has been cast upon our race and the last song was song when cease-fire is erased from our dictionary.