Sifting through the ashes, the product of one fell swoop
Finding joy and happiness, drifting further away, feeling less familiar.
Whatever hope there was, of righting the wrongs,
Staying alive, is gone.
Slipping away, with tired fingers grasping for substance.
He’s falling into the hole we’ll all visit one day.
Even now, as I lay down on my bed, it feels like my grave.
Even know, I know that I am dying.
It’s hard to open my eyes, face the world, and touch reality.
I’m weary of this struggle, and anxious to see what lies beyond eternity.
Here's my Chest,
Wanna see the Rest?
I'm a stud,
don't think I'm a dud.
I'm real fine,
and I'm mine all mine!
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