Trauma
Empty words, knowing looks
Comfort stained with pity
Aspiring to forget
Losing only sanity
Still the demons come at night
Still the dark consumes the light
Everything I touch or hold
Turns to dust instead of gold
Nervous tremors fill the void
Something better, still destroyed
Peace comes by the bottle
Regret soon to follow
Lost beyond a fire
That stokes anxiety
Getting lost in my own head,
All of this held by a thread
Everything I touch or hold
Turns to dust instead of gold
Nervous tremors fill the void
Something better, still destroyed
I see the end has come at last
Vile memories of distant past
Falling apart
Tear up my heart
Not equipped to understand
The spiral starts again
Left alone here on the verge
Of forgiving my own sin
Autor(es): Lost Harbor