have you misplaced your confidence
i don’t recall seeing where you left it
was it tossed aside with previous ambitions
maybe mistaken for pride and worn out
or covered in lies of superiority

if hindsight could be a victor
then the search would never start
the tragedy of identity
is never seeing what is lost
you absorb blindly

is the air thinning out
from the reserve of purity
has the last stone been cast
in the purest form of anger
with violence taking over

my hands are free
for my own good it seems
keeping themselves busy
out of sight


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