The true story is a never-ending cycle Men with a thirst for power have intertwined Gaia in their ego and suffocated her in darkness, murdered the earth and still blame us, pure pieces of a game of destruction where their strategy is survival the struggle flirts with hope has become what moves us even knowing the end, With each word my air was suffocating in myself, I find myself in total darkness I feel my skin dissolve Would not having a choice be a choice?