The Archives
Lost in a world of my own design
Within the recesses of a shattered mind,
I struggle in vain to escape the rain
Which makes my sanity impossible to find.
Like a bird atop a telephone wire,
I can see in the distance the sun's burning fire,
But to reach the light is an endless fight
For my heart is consumed by its own desire.
Tortured,
Screaming,
Constantly scheming.
Planning the day when I will wake from dreaming.
To conquer this hell I know so well
And end my tear's incessant streaming.