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Who am I?
a shell of what used to be a man
look at circumstances I don't understand
a shadow living each day as my last
remembering my past something i can no longer grasp

looking at the change and always wondering why
if i could there'd be so many tears that I would cry
a requiem for my past, a premonition of my future
a ceremonial symphony of a tale that encircles one man

A story of the struggle in an existence of life
but its not really a struggle its more like a fight
a war within this being of logic and reason
against another who lives upon his hope and dreams.
The outcome is uncertain written within each day
in the books of history but when the pages are torn away
That story loses its meaning and becomes a fable
amongst a circle a friends who were really unable
to know the truth lying in between every word
believing the man to be nothing but disturbed.

As the tale is lost like dust in the wind
a similar story then starts to begin
and is relived through the eyes of another, similar to himself
and history once again shows it repeats itself
a vicious circle is drawn
but like all things eventually it is gone.