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Of Blackest Oceans
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Ire
Voices.
I hear them in my head.
Where do they come from?
When will they stop?
Always expecting me to solve their problems.
Always asking me to find whats lost.
I've realised that I don't know where I stand but I'd insist that I owe you nothing.
There's nothing here, there's nothing left and it's just what you'd expect;
This life's a lie and I don't owe you shit.
I am the root of all suffering. I am the cause of all hope.
I am not fit for your worship.
Whole existence disgraced with no meaning or purpose.
Four walls collapsing in. There's not pity in chaos; malevolent.
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