To look upon the eyes of your worth
what was i trying to find?
search for nothing, nothing is found
except anguish in the mind
trying to find a surrogate friend
yet the passion was denied
the joke of existence runs empty
but the rules we must abide
the jury of jesters have pity on me
for this soul has never been tried
the opiate of my conscience was
discovering a way to hide
the apparent question remains in thought
is it better after you've died?
