Personal

My personal interpretation

It's always a cobblestone road,

the wet and cold,

the abandoned home,

and suffocating dome

over this wretched world.

Breathe in the shards,

be judged by rotting cards,

and live cause

dying is easy...living is harder.

I make scars on my heart,

not on my wrists.

I carry weights in my mind,

not in my arms.

I obey the law,

not the voices.

And I live for living sake,

not for the approval of others.

I stand in the middle of the road,

waiting for help,

where there is none.

Alone they walk,

alone they talk,

all alone in the distant dark,

all alone was a mourning lark.

If the sun ever rose,

or another prose,

I would be dead I suppose,

for my story and my dream has finally came to an inevitable close.

I wish for the moon

to come real soon.