i once dreamt that happiness was written in us all
and every line was beautiful and infinite withal
now i'm bound with emptiness that no one else could know
and all my words are stolen like the life i led before
and every piece of me is scribbled
on a note that no one cared to read
sentenced to be free of any meaning
and i can only come to be on pages
torn from me long before they're worn
and i'll die before i'm born