A Synthetic Soul

Standing on the Brink

Like the emotion that's stolen my body.
A wind is whirling and it's haunting me.
Like a storm that's coming to bring the rain.
Stripped from my skin but not this sense of pain.

Echoes emit from softly spoken lips not speaking.
Standing on the brink, I get such a gripping thought,
Why does the rain feel different when it drops?
Trying to pry its way inside my once beating heart.

As the cold comes creeping, Caressing like Sin
So desperate because I can't Breathe and I can't swim.
In a sea of confusion, spinning and sinking in the dark.
I Never thought an end would begin this hard.

Falling so far from touching what I feel.
In this scene I crawl hoping that nothing is real.
And it think my thoughts are blinking like my vision.
Never really seeing what I believe in.

If only my passion for whiskey left me numb without feeling.
Captive, my memories drag me kicking and screaming..
To the serated edge where I'm standing on the brink.
Looking at you, Looking at me.

Wondering what you think
Lost in all the rabid thoughts unscreamed.
Living but not the way you dream.




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