Everyday sulking and sulking.
Distant time where did it go?
Who am I to say that the one who flies to the greatest measure of evil is allowed to redeem all of the conscious world into the human brain of darkness?
Who am I to say that I am worth it?
Who am I to say that the endless hole that I call suffering is actually the epitome of life?
But most of all, who am I to say that I am proud?
Proud of myself I should be, the others say
But how can I be proud of myself when the black whole in my far distance just became wider and closer to the face's reach?
Is there still time to get away? Only the galaxy knows that.
Is there still time to recognize that everything you work for meant something? Only you can do that.
But so I ask my self, who am I to be the marvellous being that I am?
Who am I to be human?
