The Gray Side. It's the horizon that I want. Your horizon. Your black and white side, I've seen them. If I haven't, I have felt them. I have felt their power, I know, at least a little, of what they are capable of. Your demons. Your angels. Locked up in opposite corners of your soul. They know me. I don't know them. I don’t know if they look at me with anger or patience. But they have seen me, through the bars of their cage. They have figured out what I am. Who I am. Or at least, how I am, from the outside. I want to, NO I have to, See your horizon. Your gray side. I have to see your gray side. Where your angels and demons meet. Where there is no wrong or right. Where you're peacefully numb, where you're happily lost. Where you're not what others see. Where you're exactly what your eyes tell me. Where you don't take a step back or run to me if you find me. I want to see your gray side. I'm not me. I have neither angels, no...