Chemical imbalance and its furious thrusts

The price I wouldn't pay for a moment of calm

A strong will confined in a withering shape

Kicking and screaming perpetually

Many thoughts, many seasons passed

Countless hours spent in turmoil

Beyond the inner twists, what truly remains of me?

Is peace only found in the endgame?

Even lazy summer days are filled with abstract need

In endless search for what's missing beneath

A creeping sense of desperation

The twisted faces in the pеriphery

A reluctant smile, facadе of the unseen

Spiralling thoughts of what could have been

The intoxicating moments when I gaze into a world of colours

This flicker of life is a haven, yet the ultimate of insults

Nothing remains of intuition and instinct, core and essence

I am but a machine, the martyr of my own creation

At the heart of what could have been

In light of what I've become

I feel betrayed

The glimmering surface is rid with holes