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Grant Newton Feb 2014
Walking aimlessly through the halls
One wrong turn, and then another
The darkness is only exceeded by my anxiety
I have no idea where I am going
I hear a voice, it whispers,
"Leave, what are you doing here?"
I have no answer to that question.
But I press on.

I'm wandering towards the dark center of my heart.
Unlocking doors to unveil the secrets of myself,
that I don't want to know.
But I press on.

Here I am, the one place I don't want to be
It's dark, it's cold, and not at all welcoming
Each breath chills my insides, I close my eyes
They should freeze be they open for too long.
But I press on.

The screams curdle my blood more,
the louder it gets, piercing my ears.
Blood runs from them as quickly as the tears begin to fall.
But I press on.

The end, it can't get any louder.

My hearing is gone completely
The cold has numbed my body
It's much too dark to see
The salty taste of blood

This is what it's like to be me.
These are actually lyrics for my band. Enjoy.

— The End —