It seems most of what I have done has become useless,
In hindsight, gazing upon the past.
The notion of remorse is fleeting,
Though the feeling sure travels fast.
I wouldn\'t be so certain though, as with many things -
One is spoken, and another completed.
And through lunacy in my prison,
I lay cold, bloodied and defeated.
Seen too much, heard too much, almost enough to ensure insanity.
People are designed to be this way, unique.
What matters to you will not always matter to me.
So do you desire to fail, or do I wish to succeed?
Alas, the chilled dew calls again the morning of glory;
I along with hens and sheep arise to begin my journey.
Diverge many paths do, indeed.
And among them all, I\'m not too sure which one I\'ll be.