I hear my world run cold,
as everything falls out of reach,
Then I breath my last retort,
My fate now closer than yesterday

Every time I throw the spear,
It harpoons into a brick wall,
Where I can't punch to continue though,
So I cradle my gun,
Hoping it saves me.

The wraith around my neck,
Tugs at the veins,
I'll crack open my face,
To see things the way they want me to,
But I can't and I'm forced back into the water,
Ashamed of who I am.

Every time I toss the rock,
It lodges into the brick wall,
Where I can't peek through to the other side,
So I cradle my scars,
Hoping I make it another day.