Sculpting life

[77o77]

It's hard to breath at all let alone to survive.
I'm walking through another day, another restless night.
I can feel the vibe as it intertwines my soul so bright it shines.
Only to be dulled with knifes, scraping against my heart.
Blood drips at my feet, winter freezes the bars.
Each beat sculpts and carves.
My pulse slowly starts to starve, and the masterpeice isn't far from a work of art.
As it begins to finish my heart gives away.
Now that I'm dead, the blood chisels the paint.
In the ends of it's stage, it peels n' decays till' it's rotten away.
My life fades to grey.
It's finally safe to say, your love couldn't last through dreams.
So I'm already gone, while your still slippin by days.
I'm just happy to breath the clearness of rain.
Caz' now I have no worries in life no places I'm caged.
I'm free, God here I come, I will break off this scene.
Here I lay, empty yet full of life, reedeming my name.

open to imagination