What makes you vulnerable?
What makes you strong?
What makes you feel disgusting?
Why does it feel like it’s taking too long?
See, those faces sitting across,
Sense the fear in those eyes,
See the tears of longing help,
A touch of the golden skies,
Why doesn’t anybody believe me?
For are my ideas so rebelling,
So what if I challenge the age-old system,
Do they fear the people uprising?
We wish nothing bad for the world,
We just wish to be written in glory’s stone,
For being the mad geniuses, when nobody believed,
We stood against the world, all alone.
Doesn’t the world need the fire kindled?
Doesn’t the world need resurrection?
Do we let the living dead rule forever?
Or do we dig a new direction?
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