Flesh, and the power it holds...

Trying to figure out.
Always was...
He stands still, always trying..
He stands cold, always dreaming..
He stands fool, always giving
He tried to figure out...

His inner thoughts,
about them,
they're using him..
they're extracting him..
they're pointing at his head..
He tried to figure out...

Suffering,
..of blood and of hatred made,
..of flesh and of weakness carved..
...and kneeling again...

Shrouded in bitterness,
standing still again,
loneliness is all that he wants.
Failure is his path to understand..
..and flowing again...

In a moment of clarity..
he seems to realize..
his final fantasy..
his era of redemption..
his personal nemesis, the begginning of his everything..
the status of the forsaken..
..and the meaning of despair - lamentation.

Souls wide open,
he can see,
he can feel, taste, love...
it is his moment of supremacy...
upon everyone..

...and that hand made of flesh grabs him again..
teaching him again...
..to try..to dream..and to give.
He stands still, always trying..
He stands cold, always dreaming..
He stands fool, always giving
He tried to figure out...