The strain tied upon my cold-hearted fingers,
Pulls down the acher,
thats forever carrying my heartless soul.
A thought talked without words.
Brings my hold to a tighter grip.
To tair the emotions to a well known place and calm the anger, thats cast out.
For air within my lungs is kept to weeze.
As I lay dying, feelin nothing but the breeze.
That keeps me from waking up and realizing that it is all left to stand alone, in the locked cage.
To tair the emotions to a well known place, and calm the air thats all around.

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