I wish I had the guts, to stab the sword through.
To openly accept the inevitable and emend the mistake of life as we know it.
For only I bring to pass, this reality out of energy.
And so all shall cease to exist from my prospect.

I verify the flux of time. In these hands lies the stair of a void.
Carefully hold it and create music, my friends.


Irrefutably superfluous to the universe. Life does not emphasize existence.
And thus, all my nay saying becomes rather pointless.
But aren't we all.