Ignea - Too Late to Be Born

This is my word
Against my own thought.
This is my style,
Which I don’t like.
This is my hell,
The devil’s it is.
This is my song,
Or listener’s is.

This is my choice,
Or yours it is.
This is my life,
Or voodoo’s of me.
On my bookshelf
Unfinished books.
Who am I now?
Where is the truth?

Part of the crowd,
Team or a couple.
Where do ‘I’ stop,
Where do ‘we’ start?
What am I now —
Me, or another?
Where do I find
Authentic I?

This is my luck,
I failed at its core.
I saw a knight,
But he turned a girl.
I have a plan,
But it has no chance.
My tale has an end,
But where do I stand?

This is my place,
I lose myself here.
This is my grace,
Decayed as it is.
I am too tired,
I can do it all.
I will be fired,
Too late to be born!

Part of the crowd,
Team or a couple.
Where do ‘I’ stop,
Where do ‘we’ start?
What am I now —
Me, or another?
Where do I find
Authentic I?