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It's a half heart with a penchant for a lie;
And abysmal dream that's savored 'til we die.
A sparkling hope and an excited air,
Disregard for the morally right or fair.
A half hearted mechanism, made without a soul,
Laughing at the inconsistencies as it deals the final blow.
Keep reaching now, keep reaching now,
For that part of you that's true,
Ignoring the black mark,
That park that makes you you.
It's a diseased scorpion, a serpent in the rough,
No one ever said that it was ever smart or tough,
But yet it manipulates the very mind it wields,
Breaking down the barriers, eviscerating shields.
You can't hide in the corners, the still parts of your mind,
It's hard to look the other way when it's yourself you find.
Keep reaching now, keep reaching up,
For the part of you that's good,
Push aside the darkness,
To find the soul you should.