The air I breathe is thinning,
The words I speak are fading,
The things I do aren't showing,
Where is my life going.
My actions get me nothing but grief,
I can't stand the judgement,
I feel like a disappointment,
All I get are mugs and stares.
My thoughts are cutting through the stem,
Disengaging the machine,
Memories appear before me,
The worst ones stay and tease.
An amaranthine abyss awaits me,
Deep below in hell.
You might not see the horror that's myself,
My soul is what I'll sell.
Help me climb out of this divot,
This trench you call a life,
Either pull me out by my hand,
Or pull the trigger, goodnight
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