My methods to run away have been eradicated to ash and steam, always hot at the moment.

The place where my heart resides is only hazardous, confusing itself with toxins.

The place where the brain commutes with the rest is not functioning.

One thing holding you captive to chains, your imagination carrying you to somewhere else.

Listen to the doubters, they say “You’ll never stop.”

Like a tunnel all hollow their only echoes are denial.

Whatever situation you're in, plead with two hands to take it away.

Even when tears dont fall and it's hot outside, outcry to make it work.

On the two knees you use to stabilize yourself, look up and watch the clouds drift as time does.

Intense focus on the clouds as they move inside time and intense focus on the conflict inside.

Cry out more to make it payout, because if all your efforts are in vain, something is not working.