I can hear the darkness, and I can see the silence.
I’m lost. I’m hurt. There’s no hope, no guidance.
I was aware of the alarm bells, and could hear the sirens.
A prisoner of my conscience, stuck in this asylum.
A passenger, observer, and bystander, of my life.
Everything I tell myself, were make-believe and lies.
I have become my thoughts, my thoughts have become me.
Trapped within my own mind, and lost at sea.
If I cry within my dreams, would you be able to hear me?
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