Who do you think you are that you have any right to tell me how to live.
Who are you to say that I should give up on my dreams because you have none.
Who besides you would listen to the words that seep through my wounds.
Who would believe you if they said you would die for a stranger.
Who thought that giving up to spare yourself pain would be worth it.
Who am I but an immortalized mortal who will disappear after death.
Who told you to go somewhere you never should have.