Never enough.
Never enough.
It was not enough.

Don't say I did everything I could.
Don't lie and say that you're proud.
I could've done better, I could've been braver.
I could've screamed to the world what I thought.

Because I soon understood that he loved us,
In the only way he knew how. With thorns.

I tried to talk, to plead, to reason.
It was not enough. As if I never made a sound.
The people I looked up to turned their backs on my voice.
Trust lost. Bonds threatened. I was stupid. I listened.
If I did better, we/he could've had a different choice.
I watch as twelve pillars crumble into nothingness,
People whispering their real thoughts under their ruins.
Shhh. Hush. Stop it.
Never enough.
Never again.
(If we survive)

Love was the answer and I didn't scream it in time.
All this violence and bloodshed has led us nowhere,
I love you and it tears me apart to see your decline.
Since when are you willing to stab someone in the back?

How does this make you better than the monster we created?
It's not a friendly, welcoming, respectful invitation.
It's lies, it's vile, tastes like bile. Everything's wrong.
After all is said and done, who will the real monster be?

Unwelcomed blessings disguised as curses,
Scratch, crawl in deep, it's worth all the bruises,
Nothing wrong with getting attached, worse is
Never getting all its inner workings.

When your tongue turns into a bunch of thatch,
Talking one's feelings with clinic detach,
Senseless poetry, from the last, rehash.
You can burn it, but its contents unleashed.

And they can't be put back in repression.

Penned by my hand on the 24th of Scarlatan, in the year 951 AF.