We are not afraid

For our whispers are power echoing through the night

We have two minds which battle, both knowing that the other is a lie

We weep and our tears are gasoline waiting for the spark

Waiting for the dream and and the spirit and someone else’s courage.

Until then our tears stain our collars

… such a useless waste of fuel

Perhaps they hear our thoughts

Perhaps we will let the deceitful mind win.

If only we truly believed what we were meant to believe, we would have peace.

Our critical minds are our death and our unhappiness.