And I can tell you this,

you’ve made me feel knee dropping weakness.

A feeling hidden so deep no processes can recognize it.

There is no reaction, no impulse.

You’re a blank sheet of paper in a world with no pens,

better hope the wind comes along.

And I can tell you this,

it’s all tricks,

they’re masked with a golden glow.

Everyone is out to get what they want,

and your passive attraction is the easiest of targets.

Sympathy for your cluelessness.

I wish you could hear me through the glass,

the glass that separates years.

Too trusting to ever survive.

You’ve missed every train at the station,

no one’s coming back for you.

And I can tell you this,

it will be the greatest test of your strength.

The hardest of falls require the quickest relapses,

but no one’s going to congratulate you.

The empty finish line is calling your name,

but what do you win when you’re racing yourself?