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Glued to the space

The more you pull

The more you stay in place

To struggle is the essance

A bloody disgrace

Grounding the body

... Trying to race.


Shaking in clay binds

Like chinese finger ties

You're more likely to bleed

Before you are released


Like sinking in quick sand

The more you struggle

The more you drown

Eyes lost in the night

(With a wound deeply profound).

You'll try to fight

But you'll end up bowing down.



With all frustation...

With depression...

With a sense of deflatation...

You'll collapse...

Blood bound looking for exaltation

An end to self destruction

To bloom in explosive creation...

Edited by Ash859
I pasted the wrong writing. Sorry!

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