Foreign Pain

Trouble.

Looking at a heart once gold, life already lost.

Beginning to the end (a mental holocaust).

And it’s so depressing, worrying.

Truth is hard to find.

Trouble here.

Still seeking, repeating.

Still I gotta strive.

I gotta strive, I gotta try.

Engaged with foreign pain, bombs dropped right though your brain.

Life’s hard you know the game.

I try but still it rains.

Hearts just explode (Awake I try to see).

Lock and reload (Inhale this life I breathe).

Searching, seeking, now exists a problem somewhere deep inside, now I gotta know.

And I cut though snakes with deadly knives of mind.

And the serpents’ fangs again will kill in time.