Cyclones::

Destroyed and damaged from the winds of hope
I tried to cope.
With the damage and destruction I've caused,
But I couldn't ... So I stayed in the cyclone of the wind,
Trapping myself, So I couldn't breathe.
Spreading a disease,
Beneath my own skin,
Killing myself,
With every breath I breathed
The damage is deep,
The scar it still bleeds.
Every time I dream,
A new wound is made from the fierceness of the wind
And my mind,
Wanders into the hope,
Sometimes it's so hard to substain.
Every new bit of pain,
But I survive,
Regardless of the odds against me.
I believe sometimes,
I was supposed to die, within the winds,
Hope...was supposed to be my death.
Hope... was supposed to be my murderer
Guess somethings... that were supposed to be...
Were never ... well... supposed to be.
If I have to stay trapped in this cyclone for as long as I live I will.
...Or...I can run forever... and see how far I get... alone.
The damage of cyclones is beyond "skin deep"
The damage of your own mind,
Could drive you insane...
Dreading today,
Dreading tomorrow,
And dreading the future to come...