What happens when the gold turns brass instead,

And the pretties lose their sheen?

When the raging clouds of fear are your home,

Making you feel weak against the storms,

And the date is all that remains in your mind the end?

What happens when the itch is under the skin,

And the filth and disease of sin follows?

When you lose your being,

Beliefs and bits,

And you can’t be fixed again?

What happens when the higher-ups give up,

And you are forced to lose the battle?

When you are left to search the endless black,

Scorned for your failures and stance,

And don't know where you find your salvation in the end?