Logan Lingle

I feel myself slowly shutting down, Like a integrated computer board On the verge of short circuitry, Time is in the final count now, These thoughts strangle me like cords, I ponder if the world will miss me? Each day is a new step, Though each foot steps in a different direction, One on a pathway to hellfire, The other gracefully touching holy water, Guess it goes to show the beauty of me, A twisted knot bound to be tied forever, Chained to my own desires, Someone lend a hand, I feel myself sinking, Sinking into the sand, I feel myself slowly shutting down, Like a integrated computer board On the verge of short circuitry, Time is in the final count now, These thoughts strangle me like cords, I ponder if the world will miss me? Stranded in webs of lies, truth and passion, With no way to navigate, I feel the flood of others taking over the subconscious, Is this body even mine? I’m beginning to lose sight, Of who I was or who I am, Chained to wall of permanent eminence, As the puppet master pulls my strings, I’ve sacrificed everything to just bleed, To feel like one of you I pass along the road, Still I’m here drowning in a self sought grave, May the dead dance as I try to breathe, Cause’ I’m gasping for air, When my lungs are flooded with oceans, Someone help me swim, Swim out of this abyss, Or let me perish like the innocents, Condemned for the acts they committed, Innocent or guilty doesn’t excuse, The blood of the hands of a distant father, Committed to watching their could be sire, Collapse internally, Guess I’m another example of what’s to be made, In the power of tyranny, I feel myself slowly shutting down, Like a integrated computer board On the verge of short circuitry, Time is in the final count now, These thoughts strangle me like cords, I ponder if the world will miss me, Or will they miss the grace of my existence, Something I can’t understand, A trophy on a pedestal that holds no real value, Pawn me off and exchange your sins for a cleaner conscious.