A talented canvas is empty
The reach of miles means nothing
Art of words and music of pixels
When does yesterday yield?
I have no regrets
I find the empty love
Now people hide
It takes strength to be
The hidden strokes bend
The simple life ends
The beauty begins
The tapestry is ready
It is the masters of life
The people that control
The people that console
The people that build walls
A secondary view
A simple belief
A waste of their time
A wax with purpose
The middle ground
Littered with blood
Hidden from all
Sodden to the bone
Let it all go
Let it all be