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I’m ashamed of every situation,
Of both its existence and its absence.
If we pull away and quietly wait for death,
If we wait to become, there’s something missing inside me.
Come, tell me, what does it mean to not be a slave?
Come, take a look, who’s the freest from here?
What does it mean to live, I don’t remember anymore,
Either it's a light, or I’m sinking deeper.
My dreams yellow, fading in the night,
There’s a void inside me, a wound in my soul.
I can’t find my way, lost in the traces,
A part of me is gone in an endless spiral.
Every step I take is a question, every eye deceived,
No one sees, no one hears the scream inside me.
Sometimes I lose myself, sometimes I find me,
But there’s always something missing, something lacking in my essence.
And I still wonder, who is free, who is bound?
Maybe if I take a step, I’ll never arrive.
I slowly fade away, or maybe a light will appear,
But in every moment, there’s doubt, always darkness near.
Show me a way, or just disappear,
Inside me, broken walls, a void within.
Who’s free, who’s enslaved, no one knows,
Everyone’s on a journey, but no one arrives.