I'm done with this game that plays away without my own consent.

I'm done with this life that gives nothing but strife to those who don't deserve it.

I'm done with this condition that must be served with words that I simply cannot conjure.

I'm done with this time that pays no mind to those who may or may not afford it.

I'm done with this shame that eats away my only hopes to belong.

For all I know this world is slow, a monument alone to stagnation.

It's time to change these elastic craves, by showing the public isolation.

Now is the time to make a rhyme, one that will bring forth a congrigation.

I'm done.

I'm done with God.

I'm done.