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Solace.txt
Rattle, rattle, rattle,
The chains pressing on my limbs rattle,
Rattle, rattle, rattle,
The chain leashing my neck rattles,
Crack, crack, crack,
I resist it, and the chains start to crack,
Crack, crack, crack,
O, what small, little cracks...
Break, break, break,
An ear-piercing tinnitus, they begin to break,
Break, break, break,
Yet they force themselves together, it cannot break.

itsnotasprettyasyouthink.txt
Just thinking about how if I bashed my head on the desk right now it wouldn't be as pretty as my mind imagines it, a scarlet fluid flowing giving birth slowly, yet carefully and meticulously to beautiful red roses with their roots in it to symbolize I was "courageous" enough to end it all. No, that's just a pretty lie, a deceitful shortcut out of a momentary despair.
The aftermath of it would be a blood stained mess of ripped skin, dry hair, popped eyeballs and lastly, my broken skull, the very core housing the abstract machine that allowed me to continue living.
This is why I will not die.

boxes.txt
Boxes, boxes
we live in boxes
we define who we are,
with the help of the boxes (boxes)
we don't go very far,
we stay in the boxes (boxes)
don't mind the shooting stars,
they're foreign to the boxes (boxes)
we don't know what we are (boxes)
you'll all go very far (boxes)
you are a shooting star! (boxes)
boxes, boxes.

Credits
Credits to:
-Klaufir, developer of Answered Prayers, for the background image
-webamp