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