Glaring signs of a distinct curse
Lies a boy, whose life is tortured by strings
He wished it were guitar strings
At least, the girls, he would get
But all he got were gills, Artificial gills!!

Living a lie, he was born to know
Of this curse lying deep within his chambers
He has read, or so he thought
Of survivors of this growing curse
A curse which let drops fall down his cheeks
Drops of hairs, dark pale hairs

If only He knew the cause of this curse
Why it had chosen him
Born a twin, dying a twig
A twig, void of its former glory
Tortured by his image, He wished He was blind
Tortured by this pain, He wished to feel no more

Oh Lord! listen to my words I plee
"I think you are somewhere in beyond the sun
I heard for every being you create, it is for a cause
Or maybe, it is for a curse, that's all my life has been
Oh Lord! if I am for a cause, clear me of this curse"
But Meanwhile,I fight on!.