Sometimes I wish to slip away, unknown, Fall away from everything that I know; I would etch pain into every last bone And cast the fire out to dwindle and go.
Sometimes, in an hour that becomes daunting I wish to banish my mind away to nought And lose the cold thoughts taunting, following. But the cold - it will never leave these thoughts.
Sometimes, when my will gives in and topples, The fear hastens as the anguish thickens And that feeling fastens, the cold throttles - Choked words are lost to voices so hidden.
As warm colours merge to grey, distorted I see a world so distant and thoughtless.