Is the world still turning?
Everything is burning.
I'm trying to fight,
To live in the light.
Now the light has gone.
As disposable as a pawn.
Because the world is burning,
I'm not sure it's even turning.
Life is hard,
I feel the shard.
It's deep in my skin,
I cannot seem to win.
My world is on fire,
It's down to the wire.
We're all rushing through,
Except a single few.
We see the beauty in the chaos.
Because we choose to find it...
Because we know it's there...

Looking down inside the 'pit'
One-hundred and forty-four carved wooden skull-like heads are strewn about.  
The wooden 'skulls' seem to be hovering over the ground.
The faces carved in such a way giving off an essence of despair.
  Tormenting pain is felt bursting from within.  
Some faces have their mouths open as if wailing out in pain,
their eyes cringed in misery and desperation.
Other faces have their mouths and eyes tightly closed.
The way people do when trying with all their might,
with everything they have within them,
not to cry every tear they have hidden deep inside.  
Still other faces have wide open eyes.
Eyes that seem as if they are ******* out your very soul,
by nothing more than glancing upon them.  
Feelings of anguish and pure sorrow are portrayed in others,
for those wooden skulls have their mouths wide open.
Whilst gazing upon them your imagination tricks you.
You can clearly hear the ear splitting screams.
Screams that could only be those skulls howling out in agony.
Terrified is every ounce of courage you had.
Pain and utter-despair displaying the torment they are feeling.  
It is as if  looking down into the 'pit',
you are glancing upon eternal misery and suffering.
Do not concentrate your full attention upon the 'pit',
for will trap you into never looking away.
For the wooden skulls,
the faces of anguish,
are the souls of lost children who were.
The children who died prematurely, in safety, and in instances of terror.
Some understanding their deaths.
Some crying out “Why?” on their failing breaths.
Too young to have ever known how much their existence mattered.  
Yet their souls live on…
Death is everywhere,
constantly upon us.
It is only sooner for some than others.
But you cannot look away.
Gazing into the 'pit' at the faces of children who have deceased.
At those who have been murdered and unfairly slain.
Children from broken wombs and families.
Those who diseases overcame them.
Their ****** expressions showing such Anguish and sorrow.
Your body is paralyzed.
Overwhelming distress is washing over you.
Your heart is twisting studying the faces of pure anguish.
It is no wonder the world is as terrible as it has become,
We have evolved into a people who are selfish and controlled by time.
To busy to see what the world has done.
If only more people would ponder upon the 'pit'.
If they could see these wooden skulls.
If they could see the faces wailing out in pain.
The faces giving off an essence of despair.
Then perhaps the world could change...

I felt that jagged blade slice right through my bare flesh,
The unforgettable moment when my heart was first pierced.
Do you understand what you've been doing to me everyday?
I know you feel the pain,
That you of all people can empathize with me.
After all, you describe to me the same pains she causes you.
I'd think you wouldn't be so blind,
It is the same pain that you've always caused me.
Do you ever hear my silent cries,
As you twist the blade you've so brutally carved into me?
You have stabbed it deep into my heart through the hands of so many others.
Can you see the transparent tears I cry?
Forever shaking the blade through every second we spend together?
We laugh, we hug,
You make my world safe while you're with me.
Yet you are the one who is causing my slow torturous death.
Through every ounce of unbearable pain you cause me,
I have almost become numb.
For as far and deep as that blade is shoved into my heart,
I will continue to eternally endure it.
As terrible as it is,
I know my mangled heart would fail without you.
I always thought it a lie that abstinence from one's presence would deepen love.
But being apart caused me to fall madly in love with you.
It has caused you to firmly grip the handle of the blade with both your hands,
As you push that razor-sharp blade so deeply into my heart.
It's almost as if you are pulling barbed wire through my very soul,
Twisting so viciously into my heart,
That the handle on the blade is gone.
The only evidence is that you're body is covered,
Covered in the bright red stains that is my blood.