Hurt
I confess myself, confused.
Was it convenient to take the double edge sword?
Or perhaps, it’s salvation you seek.
Why now? One by one, two by two.
They come in pairs, and leave you in pieces.
The silver lining of the crimson scythe.
Scars fade, wounds heal, and the pain?
Mastering my depression a thousand times in a thousand lifetimes.
Now, I must do it once again.
Calming water, standing your ground.
The life of a raging fire, the blissful breeze of air.
Ready or not, the clock starts ticking.
You’re running out of time.
We, are running out of time.
I am, am I…Alive?
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