The sun will shine and I’ll be seen,

But from these woods I will not lean.

Maybe I was meant to stay

In a forest that pushes things away.

I smile to make the lines look beautiful and free,

But I hope no truth is found in me.

It’s a two-faced paper; one is white, one is black.

The white one shines, but the black one pulls back.

The black is broken, saying “you are not right,”

I lean to its side to cry through the night.

No footage, no drama, I want to stay hidden,

But the white part asks for the help it’s forbidden.

The black one says “No, you have done enough deeds,”

You may be an angel, but let him feel what he bleeds.

Let him worship the hell, let the voices increase,

I’ve given it power I can’t bring to peace.

They fight to be loved, they fight to be first,

But I chose the angel when things were the worst.

It’s too late now, I’m too afraid,

I crawl through the noise of the choices I’ve made.

No one can listen, it’s all locked inside,

A kid with a rope and nowhere to hide.

Scars of a hell where his whole world crumbles,

But still he adores… even as he stumbles.

With no hope left and the path getting rough,

He’s still moving on, because he’s had enough.

Moving forward, because he has no choice of hope.