Tales of Woe

These tales sorrowful pain and woe delicately penned by such a desperate soul. Incomplete, trying to fill the void, a vast hole with drugs that seem now to be taking a toll. I am but an addict lost, just steadily rocking this bowl. Running on empty lingering in places even Angels dare not go. Raw emotion and pain begin to show in the tears that have already started to flow. I become colder the older I grow. Always seen reaping what I didn't mean to sow.

In this forsaken peyton's place far from the reaches of God's good grace

I linger in the shadows that remain as dark as they are still. Cigarette burning in my windowsill. One of my biggest struggles is keeping this shit real, while inside I hide how I truly feel. In prayer I kneel attempting to keep things on an even keel slaying these beasts with a stainless blade of steel. Appearing to others as if I'm mental ill destined to kill just for a sick twisted thrill. These wounds I carry never seem to heal numb to it all I am geeked to the gill.

These demons surround me as my addictions start to drown me

I'm feeling like I just do not belong. Nothing feeling right unless I am doing it wrong staring into nothing as I hit this bong. I tried and failed to remain so strong. I held it down for way too long. Now I am having difficulty moving right along.