Plato's cave.

Tired eyes, breathless mouth,
look at what you created;

it's cold outside - you're cold inside
when every drawback becomes hatred

filling the holes in your heart,
and the thorns of your past
have become so big that every rose has died;
there's no light there, where you hide

so come outside, where you can't see
- come outside, where you are forced to live;
where all your rage has no direction,
hatred turns into misconception;

so come outside, where nothing has a meaning
out of your Plato's cave,
where experience is stronger than a thought

you gave birth to,

wearing the mask of the brave.

 VedenKH