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Sifting through the shadows of a past put behind me,
With the boy up ahead and the man tucked inside me,
Where my life had begun, and where it never ends,
Could only be foreseen through the curve of the lens,
But I follow through the days at the mercy of my mind,
With the hope that I'll find all the courage left in time,
Looking further to the future, where the boy's lost and crying,
Kneeling right beside the man, on the floor, slowly dying,
It gets hard for me to fight it, but the tears start to flow,
And my heart burns like fire, for the sorrow of my soul,
Growing cold and ever colder, till the reason fades away,
Till I'm broken down to nothing, and my pride has gone astray,
Leaving naught but a shadow of what I thought I never was,
I know you couldn't care, but I'm saying this because,
In the memory of man, we all tend to make mistakes,
We regret them and forget them, never trying to erase,
And then we try to shine in the light of broken glory,
With deafened ears, blinded eyes to the horror of the story,
But just think about the boy that never figured how to cope,
With the loss of himself in the future that he wrote,
He's still kneeling there and crying, waiting ever patiently,
He had lost his destination, in the void called memory.