There’s an infinite number of lonely faces, crumbling buildings, and torn down places. The streets are filled with animosity, a seemingly infinite amount of death it’s seen. I’m failing to find my purpose in life, and I’m struggling hard to see the light, yet there’s something inside me just desperate to escape. There’s hope in my heart and it’s alive, but it’s getting tougher not to fight it in my mind. I’m ashamed to say I’m not the same, and all of my good qualities are fading away. I’m isolated and I can’t face it, but I’ve become way more than just complacent. Too many tears shed in strife, I don’t know if I’ve got what it takes to fight these demons my whole life.