Paroles de Chains

Chemical imbalance and its furious thrusts The price I wouldn't pay for a moment of calm A strong will confined in a withering shape Kicking and screaming perpetually Many thoughts, many seasons passed Countless hours spent in turmoil Beyond the inner twists, what truly remains of me? Is peace only found in the endgame? Even lazy summer days are filled with abstract need In endless search for what's missing beneath A creeping sense of desperation The twisted faces in the periphery A reluctant smile, facade of the unseen Spiralling thoughts of what could have been The intoxicating moments when I gaze into a world of colours This flicker of life is a haven, yet the ultimate of insults Nothing remains of intuition and instinct, core and essence I am but a machine, the martyr of my own creation At the heart of what could have been In light of what I've become I feel betrayed The glimmering surface is rid with holes