The pen hits the paper and
ink bleeds through the fibres
in the fabric of my world

Where have I been?
Where am I?
The attempt at faith
in which I am
has been tried and tried again

Oh, I've got pride
but there's a limp in my stride
It's high tide and I've been lied to
pried from and I'm black salt
from the bowels of a volcano

Find me spewing magma
from my lips and you'll be burnt
by unkempt fury

It'll take me years to come back
from the years I've been lost
so I'll just keep finding myself
deep in the thickets,
I am catching brambles
in every nook and cranny
of my being,
unseeing

Open my eyes and
fill the voids with sunshine,
a shimmering coat of stardust
with a bit of moonshine,
seems to be the remedy for
dull smiles and droopy eyes

I've stumbled across the fault lines of your not-so-subtle lies, unwilling quite chilling
and I cry in order to see those thorns wither and die, sizzle from the sighs as I realize with real eyes there's nothing for me to surmise and it'll either be my demise or what finally makes me wise, so

I burst into flames and slither into the sky,
no limits, and in just a minute I'm in a new state of mind.

From unkind to kind I'm a dried up rind bubbling into the scent of fresh pine.

Sometimes you just gotta draw the line,
and let the ink bleed through