it's an act to which I finally admit defeat.....


a lost thought never to return....

a grip not shaken from a hold so pure you've still not recovered.....


this is how it feels.....


upstairs.....inside.....

the whispers so sweet......

a diabolic tempt of a switch.....

where do I find myself.....when do I spell help.....and at what cost does the price bestow until I finally fall.....never giving up.....


this is my days as they wind up....the tide may sink me yet.....a hold so fearce it breaks you a hold so real you bleed.....

as my mind sinks....so do the days a blend of originality.....just don't stop the ride before the casualty.....
© silentOne