by Arcssin Burnham


Locked in chains full of dangers,
hold my hands lord,
pulling me further and further away
from my original destination,
what's with a these different strangers,
life can also record,
all the things you gave and took away,
weather the source of damnation,

I can't imagine life without beauty,
scratch and then patched,
something anyone wouldn't want to
bother with,
when it comes to judgment,
my sincerest apologies truly,
don't want to get too attached,
with a dose of salt and a quad of spit,
in the air..... I'm suspended.

Handcuffed to a post, body chained to death.
Rusted irons pulling his spirit towards Hell.

Shackled souls who cry in hope.
His name in blood on white-washed walls.

During the day,
My brain is in chains,
At night it breaks out of its cage.

During the night,
My dreams, they take flight;
And I wish they would give me a fright.