I scream to notice my fingers numbing more and more
Losing my pulse, holding my breath
Saving its allowance to purchase one last hope
It's funny how fragile life gets, contained in glass
Waiting for salvation to come, one letter at a time
Forming redemption with ink and a feather
How many times must these wrists be severed
To bleed out all the tired blood
Hold my words, dust my page
Trace the ink strokes enraged
Carving out liberation, with pencil lead
Tones in flesh fed, lips to savor all truth, all pain
The madness endeavor
Not wanting to mix words
I separate my intentions by etching syllables in wood
Breaking down motives keeping store, what for?
Writing verse in rhythm, meter with premise
Currents forging cracks in smiles
Too precise to recognize
Knowing it's too late to reconsider my failing position
I succumb, unthreading the tide to be overcome
By this oncoming, unstopping mass
Hold my words, dust my page
Trace the ink strokes enraged
Carving out liberation, with pencil lead
Tones in flesh fed, lips to savor all truth, all pain
The madness endeavor
