The wondrous miracles that life has to offer, are none but forsaken dooms,
The misery and hate prevailing in our lives, are none but honest proclamations.
Why, oh why, must we live a life, so full of misery, and agony, when all we can truly do with it is internalize events that take place, on a daily basis, only to understand that for an eternity in us, shall be, none but forlorn pain,
We are all so very forsaken, as people, or rather, as I'd prefer to call "sheeple"?
For all we live, is none but an illusion, of a dream, that was once perhaps a reality - a reality in the minds and hearts of billions, or perhaps, mayhap just one,
The one