For every step I take,
I can feel my feet slipping
back three.

I'm at the end of my rope.
But my noose isn't even tied yet.

Living in a snow globe.
Watching life around me blossoming,
beautifully.
But when I try and reach out.
My hands hit the glass and stop me dead in my tracks.

I'm developing
physical ailments.
From my over abundance
of feelings, I'd rather not have.
Being human, ***** man.

As wars wage within my heart.
I can feel my inner demons
playing my heart strings
like a harp.
A beautiful melody
of self destruction, hatred and fear.
Acoustics are great.
But I'm still waiting
for the choir of Angels
to sing songs
of love and peace.
Someday,
that's a nice thought.

A moment of peace
in between the battles.
Of my heart and mind.

Is as common as a
four leaf clover.
A rare occasion.
A holiday for my heart.

To forget the war it's losing.

No matter how many miles separate us.
If you never speak to me again.

At least, I can take comfort in knowing
that when you've had your fill.
Faith lost, hope vanished from your heart
without a trace.
I know,
you'll look to the stars.
Only to see tens of thousands of them;
shinning brightly on the darkest nights.
Just for you.

And if this life is just meant to be a realm of torture.
A realm of apathy and discontent.
I find peace within my heart knowing
I'll be looking at the same sky, too.

Lost within the fear.
One too many times now.
I can feel my heart slowly,
breaking into a million shattered dreams.
In between irratic palpitations and bursts of nervous energy.
Of course.

I think my soul is ascending to its purest form.
It's both terrifying and beautiful.
Almost like I'm dying and living simultaneously.

Channeling demons against my will.
My body, used.
Seen nothing more than a flesh ouija board.
In your game of self reassurance.
I'm not the conduit, you wanted me to be.
My eye's just as open as yours.
Stop telling me otherwise.