hopeless

There's only segmentations of past in my eyes,
that defined an historical pain
and in the presence of remorse,
I can only explain suffering once again.

For every tear drop mixed in the substance
could exist wonder in my veins
but first I have to decay
into something I can’t explain.

I don’t always have the answers in life,
to help the helpless to submerge
into to the unknown to the indescribable
and to describe their infinitive suffer,
into somewhere recyclable.

I just fulfill elements into my skin
burning outside their unreachable crust,
to the point of serenity madness
and gaining death to my soul
to leave everyone in blindness.