Darkening
I'm falling out of place again
trying to hold true
to a life I never knew
I'm calling my faith pretend
as it gets me through
another day, I write away in ink blue
Ill in tendencies and sick of misery
will I invite company to sin with thee
I love solitude
but 'it' dislikes loneliness
Has a mind of its own
no control of it
as long as I'm inflicted then it
lives in me it lives indeed
What is it that tempts the weak?
is it something wicked or just we don't get it
up to us, or was it written in stone
well only Lord knows
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