What is scar tissue compared to a wounded soul,
A perfect life is one with secrets untold,
A lost love leaving behind an embedded dagger,
Into the cliché of life we valiantly stagger,
Hoping for redemption or dignity regained,
Is there any priceless pleasure without resounding pain?
All the while we seek ever elusive peace,
And toy with the frailty of our beliefs,
But in the end it’s all the same,
When you are alone there is no one else to blame.