A life in shambles around me,
Not knowing it's all my own;
A distant cry for help, I see,
When hindsight's twenty-twenty;
The cage shuts tight around me,
No longer looking back;
Time to turn and walk the path,
That only I can see;
Even here I see the turns,
To turn me back to safety;
But when you do the things I've done,
There is no silence wafting;
Signs never beholden,
By a sun that's never shown;
The blur in my eyes is a pain that's sent,
Like Nero's fiddle on Rome;
Never willing to accept the blame,
Of sadness I have lent;
Please perceive this choice I face,
As one that must commence;
Only in truth shall I be free,
When the bullet takes my pain.