If I were to take a gun and place it on my head,
I can't decide if my brain would run
Or beg for me to shoot it dead.
Shadows cloud your shining sun and leave me full of dread,
I truly thought you were the one,
But now I wish for death instead.
An easy route would be to shoot
And end this endless agony,
My faith, beliefs, pulled at the roots,
And everything I've claimed to be,
Erodes within these desperate wounds.
These desperate wounds you gave to me.