Re post Sign of the times in the right format.
These things I do to myself
Tear my insides apart
It soon will be harder to see
My spirit fading with the dark.
I’m torn from the top and
Sewn back at the spine
Something like a modern day Frankenstein.
Relating to the day, when savior cries out
Savoring the time, with just the hopes of finding meaning,
Even for just one last time.
The day is grave, and this feels like a game
With no end, no beginning, and an untitled name.
The tint of the earth looks orange
And the mist is more like acid rain
When life could be no more similar
Differences bread pain.
The sour taste of the atmosphere
Lingers on my breath.
Exhaling slowly for life
Exhilarating steps bring us closer to death.
The sanctuary of solving problems
Is equivocally stated and becomes stress related.
The pain is painted and well placed
Like majestic madness to this day.
But the curse gets worse
Poised to strike at birth,
But tags along throughout, tell me what’s worse.
Chasing toward the close
Finally truth slowly becoming exposed
Irate sirens placed
In symbolism, we scream to be saved from our fate
Biblical references bring baptism to the plate
Winding down
Withering out
Signaling for something sacred
Triumph needs help.