The poet lives two lives.
One on the outside,
And one in their mind.

When you look in their eyes
You could see an abyss.

If you looked long enough
You could sink into it.

But most people don’t see it.

Take the time to read the words, though,
And you would know for sure.

The poet lives in two different worlds.

Rain, rain, wash me away.
Drown me in the depths, let my spirit decay.

Lost and lifeless, adrift in the flood,
no fire in my heart, no surge in my blood.

Endlessly grasping at things not meant to be.
Left to live out forever in the cold of the sea

Rain, rain, wash me away.
Perhaps I'll find solace in this madness of grey.