The Human with all the answers

The Wreaking Peak

I hold a tiny piece of metal in my hand,
And think "why does this have to be so bad,"
With tears in my eyes I think one last time,
"Is it time to say good-bye ?"
With every mark I make is every point I take,
And every point I take is every mistake I made,
I see my walls cave in,
Blacking my soul within,
The day I rip my skin open,
Is the day I break my wings,
The day I break my wings is the day I fall to hell beneath,
As I lay on a bed of wreath,
From tattooing my neck with sheath,
And dying with blood that creeps,
Wishing I didn't hold a piece of metal that deeps.