The Road

You're at the front door. A change between an island and a bridge. Crossing your emotions, its the sanity that drives us crazy. Tossing and turning, we're fixing a way to stay clean. But no water washes this blood away. Stains filled the cracks of our lives and saving time is slavery to our sleep. Passion builds the failure to develop a better way out. Frustration lingers like the stench in the air. Allow the choices to take control, no mind is powerful enough to contain all this rage. So slip through the pain because sleep is a lie if you're still screaming at night. This is a better place where failure begins to decay. God isn't the weakness, you not believing in yourself is. Every one dies, that's the easy part of life to accept. "Caution: Is the fear behind an open casket, every one is trying to bury you in while you are trying to claw your way out." That is the price we try to run and hide from. Its the price worth blaming for. Which is something we always seem to forget. Now we have found that there is nothing left to live for. No hands to walk with, No shadows for us to follow, no more roads to guide us. We have failed ourselves. Now we must breathe in and accept death as we have accepted our own fear. WE ARE THE WEAKNESS.