Second Wind

Stuck in a whirlwind
Of cataclysmic proportions
I blow like a tornado
And each and every thought
That crosses my mind
Screams out!
Out of the pain
Out of the shattered promises
Splattered hopelessly
Sharp like broken glass
No more pain
No more holding the mirror
To your bad face revealing your
Tattered morals and wicked eyes
No more rain
The time for redemption is here
I will not be your cane
And as sad as it may be
I must retreat from this game
Retreat from this game
Of destruction

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *