To what extent should we try? Is this part of the game? Do we pay for their mistakes? Where can we stand to understand the world? How does a star burden the shoulders of the universe before it throws it off? How does the air dance the laundry of the nobles? When does the night view the nap of the weary? If one is trapped by their solitude, who adopts them? Why do we date our old dreams if patience has spoiled their pages? What is the point of speaking when there is so much ruin in my chest? Who mends what I feel if the night grinds it? To what extent must we heal before we die for the nightmare of our pains to end? Who silences our laughter? Who stole life from us? Was our speech our crime? How did we forget who we are? How did they create our mazes? Who drew the map for them to guide their way? From what land did our calamities come? Why does speech still hurt us?