A friend says it, then.
All I see is escapism.
As fast as legs can carry him.
He is what he's fleeing from.

Inner peace?
Certainty?
"What will be will be?"
Make a trope of tragedy.

Hope dies.  
I live.
All I've ever been.
Illusion keeping on.

Delusion keeping on.

Reality made me
and everything I want to see,
I want to see.