I never fit in this twisted realm,
This world bled me dry from the start,
Where the air is thick with forgotten dreams,
And shadows dance with fractured hearts.

A place where smiles are stitched with lies,
Where hope is sold on shattered streets,
Where broken minds drift like smoke,
And empty eyes avoid what they can’t unsee.

Whoever’s lurking in the void,
Silent as the moonless night,
Do you hear the cries of the lost?
Or do you drown them in your endless flight?

Did you weave this madness with purpose?
Did you sketch this chaos with care?
Is every tear just part of your plan,
Or do you simply watch, unaware?

I’ve got a question for the cruel creator,
The architect of this fractured play,
Do you see us fumbling in the dark?
Or are we just pawns you throw away?

Is this the chaos you dreamed of?
Is this the world you shaped with pride?
A labyrinth where love turns to dust,
And faith withers beneath the tide?

Each soul you crafted with trembling hands,
Now lost in this twisted masquerade,
Every breath just a fleeting spark,
Every step another mistake we’ve made.

I walk this path of rust and ruin,
A stranger to the place called home,
Searching for answers in the silence,
In the echoes of a world overthrown.

I never fit in this twisted realm,
This world drained me dry from the start,
But still, I wander through the void,
Seeking meaning in the darkest parts.

So tell me, creator of this endless storm,
Was it worth the blood and bone?
To craft a world of such despair,
And leave us lost, afraid, alone?

Or do you tremble in the void,
Afraid of the very thing you’ve wrought?
A masterpiece of endless pain,
A world where peace is never caught.

I ask you now, oh silent hand,
Is this the chaos you dreamed of?
Or do you weep for what you’ve done,
As we crawl through the ash and mud?