Sometimes it's hard to open your eyes,
they want to close,
to sleep,
to forget,
to escape.

Sometimes the waves come crashing by,
when you least expect it,
when nostalgia presents it.

Waves of regret,
lost hope,
guilt,
confusement

Why did I do that?
What did I do wrong?
Did I deserve it?

Does the hit of the hammer of justice,
and the jury stands and shout
that you deserve it.

Were you right?
Were you wrong?
Is there really a way to tell after the knives have fell,
into a shallow well
and has pierced the ground
and opened hell?

Eternal impressions
in your heart,
these scars that
mark your depression