Awoken in the morning,
from the screaming in my head.
It's insane, like I'm someone else,
those voices, and all that was said.
The anger, hatred and the malice,
being driven, purely by discontent.
Pure energy, in the eye of a storm.
this mind overtaken, stolen without consent.
Twisted and physcotic, mentally drained sometimes just wishing, I was dead
The thoughts, contemplating suicide,
like a tornado, swirling around in my head.
Sometimes I feel so lost within myself,,
as if I have boarded another train.
For this life that I've lived,
it is full of fucking pain
I'm lost seems to be, can't find the way back,
and now stuck, in a darkened state.
No peace, no serenity, anywhere,
nothings there, nothing to find. it's too late.

© David Lowell Eads Jr.