I'm so tempted to just pack it in and give up the fight.
I don't get what I'm doing wrong.
I reach out and feel no ones hand there.
So I try a different turn.
Again, this road is empty.
I could just cry you a goddamn river.
If you wanted to go sailing.
There are no more Knights.
The White horses are gone.
It's raining in my little piece of Hell.
No one hears me anyway.
The pain is deafening.
