Texty: Yaphet Kotto. The Weight Of Remorse.

Since when is it over?
Overwhelmed with with defeat.
Perhaps a chance for mistakes is threatening.
Downsize your loss.
Propelled by my greed.
Means just getting one more chance.
To ridicule me.
Each arm posed, the blood holds still.
How will I know?
We used to sit together, eyes locked.
Anticipating each time we'd meet.
Each arm posed, the blood spills.
Help them through the night.
Are they close?
Do they know about it?
I don't doubt it.
The martyr takes a step towards the unexpected.
Floating down, no one in sight.
Now all there is to look forward to is your anti participation.