Another shot fired in anger to speed our own demise, to aid the beast that hunts us, upon retreat from blurring
skies. We suffer the pain of blood flow amidst a sea of closing doors; clutching tightly to the sound of our own
screams… these words won’t reach the shore. Burning down
the sky ‘till there is nothing left; we smother every
feeling under the weight of regret. Our fists held in the
air won’t give us the strength to decide: What’s right?
Who’s wrong? Where do we go from here? And as we’re
sinking to the bottom, we leave our anchors unrestrained;
because the promise of redemption escapes us. Peacefully,
I will sleep beneath the scorching sheets; and upon the
ice of failure, I will dream that I am one with the
flames; and in the wind, the world will hear my name.