i grow tired of this worn out place

my tastes have changed and i wish to taste something

sweeter and fits more my taste

i come near the end of this age

and i cant help but to look at the path i have carved into this ground i stand upon

i cant help but to think of regrets

how when the sunrises those regrets will ignite upon the touch of the suns rays and wisp away forever.

my worries gone

as well as those i dread most 

the people

though through the haze of illusions only a few will stand out and be real.

the real illusion grasp will be gone as the new age comes, 

you yourself can look at the person on the other side of the glass

and see who exactly he is

he is you