I bore the weight that was never mine to hold, I’ve been burdened by thoughts and I let fester these shadows as I painted my own way
I bore the weight that was never mine to hold, yet I believed in the weight of words as these sting an absent care
I bore the weight that was never mine to hold, not from the sound from the meaning I will let within me reside woven my own chains…
I was both prisoner and warden in my cell of thought, yet I realized no outside force had ever truly imprisoned me
I was both prisoner and warden in my cell of thought, the anger I carried was all self-lit where frames I stroked with my own breath
I was both prisoner and warden in my cell of thought, a fire that needed only my choice to silence to bring its death…
The wound was not arrow, but where I let it land, a simple moment yet turned it into something dark to keep
The wound was not arrow, but where I let it land, his action was like the arrow but my mind is the place it found its rest
The wound was not arrow, but where I let it land, had I simply pass would I not have fared the best…
I threw them out and I was beyond free, I just let the storm pass over me as the sky breaking open to something new
I threw them out and I was beyond free, I can no longer be bounded by the weight of thoughts that never had to be there in the first place
I threw them out and I was beyond free, I can no longer be lost in the friction as I had written unknowingly…
Silence was not an absence but a space I had long ignored
Like a quiet harbor within myself where peace had stored
I simply had to let it fade, like the ever-turning tide
A trick of my perception are illusions crumbling from sight
