Destruction wrought, havoc wreaked,
Chaos finally reached its peak.

They lived through lies, carnage embraced,
They've lost it all; they have no face.

There's nothing unique about their deaths,
And now of peace they are bereft.

Some can't see these apparitions of life,
Theirs are the days of continuous strife.

“Why can't I live? Why can't I die?”
Within these creatures, their answers lie.

They'll never be tranquil until they find,
The piece of themselves that they left behind.

“Is that mask my face? Or the face a mask?”
There are no answers to the questions they ask.

Look into their eyes and clearly see a great void,
Where once their hearts bloomed, overtaken--overjoyed.

All of these things were lost long ago,
They are nothing but shells with nothing to show.

How many of them are just like us?
Lurking about from dawn to dusk?

Aimlessly they search for redemption or cause,
They're given no help, no refuge, no pause.

Effort seems futile, access denied,
Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide.

They cannot remember who hurt them last,
It all blends together in their nightmarish past.

“Why can't we live? Why can't we die?
What's holding us back from being alive?”

Lost in thought, some of them knew,
They had fates to fulfill, and dreams to pursue.

A hero reborn, a fresh new start,
Can all result from a change of heart.