This Pale Mask

Sick of sickness I close these heavy eyes
Tired in heart of hands locked in restraint
Losing something, everything
Circles into patterns
Highs and lows
Bright light to extremes
Until turning wheel slows
Trial and error united with elaborate schemes
Endless imaginative scenes
But I'm a romantic
Cuz I'm a romantic
Sick of sickness I close these heavy eyes
Tired in heart of hands locked in restraint
Quarter to refill, half left to the big win

Synthetic pessimist
Depressed over the obvious
Easily amused
Deceptive minds catch me,
Teasing the gentle, withering framework of deceit
I hold so dear to this pale mask
To this pale mask
One part relief, and ten thousand parts regret
Sick of sickness I close these heavy eyes
And try to forget

by Taylor Loftin