Tired of apprehension, this stress I don’t enjoy
Killjoy is work, no fun to be employed
The spirit is chained and restrained every move,
What do you really want? That point is moot
Smiles unseen, beyond miles they wait, the sky darkens
With every passing day, hell’s gates seem to never close,
We’re the angel’s baits; it’s me they chose,
It seems so close, just beyond my grasp; they close them doors, on me every time a darker path unfolds,
Untold realities, horrors lark,
On my path on which I walk, with disheartened heart,
As there’s nothing else I can think of to do
Nothing that can help me to see this through
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