Strike of Twelve.

History repeats itself at the strike of twelve.
While we hang our mistakes up on the shelves.
Not worth forgetting, no turning back.
We find ourselves pulling each other out of the black.
Hand in hand, we'll throw it all away tonight.
But silly boys and girls, don't lose your line o sight.
Your slate may have been swiped clean,
Still the prediction of your future go unforeseen.

You'll pay your toll with your life,
Because it's so easy to end with a knife.
If you choose to walk that path,
It's the decision of your own wrath.
Because living is scary, and dying is easy.
Everything goes unsaid and uneasy.
The thoughts all jumble into one.
And you're not thinking of the long run.
Your mind is focused and cluttered.

Will power can save you, it can also destroy you.
It all depends on how you view.
Don't make the mistakes you'll regret,
You'll go on wishing you weren't your own threat.
Cause breathing every day is scary.
While it's so easy to be buried.

Author's Note

Just something new.