The pain and agony of self defeat. Meant to reoccur, meant to repeat.
It creeps behind you and rips you from the neck. Eating you from the inside, a tear-infested wreck.
All you ever knew, and hoped for to last, faded away to nothing, but a memory of the past.
Give to me a demon or death to fight I plead, but please don't tell me to find love, because this is an unachievable deed.
There's more luck in ending world hunger or becoming the pope, but when it comes to everlasting love, there's clearly no hope.
Young and ignorant in my years I will give you, I'm no fool, but to love someone for a lifetime is just another meant to be broken rule.
Why waste my dying years on this world looking for someone that suffices, when love will prove to die, just as any out dated devices.
The worlds proven to me that life is portrayed as an independent dream, and that free will is just a hallucination crushed with a hopeless scream.
Self defeat is to be accepted and learned, to understand the aspects of this world of pain. You can try to juggle and hold onto you're achievements, but there's nothing you will gain,
It's best to just live in the moment, to overlook the subconscious repressed pain. If you're looking for love or meaning, you'd be better off to refrain.
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