Hope?

What's the point of feeling joy,

if you have to force it out?

A heart made of gold is a heart to be destroyed.

Collect the correct bullets and make sure you have the right amount.

Is this what it's like to be a survivor?

Waiting for the next strike, or waiting for your saviour?

We all get it, we all know,

how easy it is to keep that heavy head of yours low.

They say "after pain there is pleasure."

But after pleasure there is pain.

It's an endless cycle with goods and treasure,

But also greed and distrust, is it worth the strain?

The thirst for happiness and the thirst for relieve,

Seems endless, with no escape for you wicked thieve.

Is it only inside, has it been all along?

Or can you swallow your pride and admit that you've been wrong?

All your hopes and all your dreams,

Shattered to nothing, so it seems.

Are you pushing them away, on purpose or not?

Let me give you some advice if I may.

Even though the days seem to rot,

Decaying right before your eyes,

The hope isn't found in a spot where it rains, or on a pile of lies.

All the hope that you've once felt seems to drain down into the sewer, down where it should be.

All you need is to keep your head hight and stop the hope, believe me.

It's better this way, this way there will be no light,

but there is no need to give up this fight.

There will be satisfaction in the places you search, and truth will be found.

You will find a place with purple flowers, there are more than you could ever count.

Walk through it and find the core.

All it wants to do is warm you, nothing more.

Safety awaits, no hope is needed where you are.

Look up to the night sky and see your falling star.

A sign for goods to come, let it melt into you heart.

This is it, this is your new start.