Friday, December 28, 2007

Holding White Knuckles

I Should Be Ashamed Of Me
I Should Stop Right Now
For There Is No Use Of Me
No More Then I Can Allow

My Skin Is Cracked
And My Mind Is Weathered
My Confusion Is off The Scale
Much More Then Can Be Measured

My Eyes Cry Out For Hope
But Yet, None Has Arrived
As I Look Back At The Memories
I Wonder How I Could Have Survived

And Even When Im Standing Tall
And The World Is With Me
The Supports Beneath Me Begin To Break
And I Am No Longer Able To See

No, There Is No Reason
To Keep On Going On
I Have Lost Strength To Move
And All Meaning Is Gone

So Now I Sit In A Black Room
Waiting For The Results Of Fate
Will Someone Throw Me A Lifeline
Before It Is To Late

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