He's bleeding out watered-down blood
From his battered old heart,
Not knowing, not thinking, not caring,
That the moment he stepped outside
Into the angry wind,
His thoughts were cracked, broken, shattered
Into a million pieces.
But where's the peace?
He stays inside, curled up
Crouching away from the world,
A world which wants to devour him,
Take his thoughts and conceal him,
To his own place - back alone again.
But he was never alone before;
His mind had kept him company,
The thoughts, the memories, the dreams
Were the only things stopping him scream,
But then his cruel world we've come to love
Took them from him.
It stole them and threw them,
To the four winds.