How does it feel?
Holding all that power within.
Containing so much for so long,
To feel as weak and yet as strong.
How does it feel?
To take deep dives into the sea,
Hoping that it would take you back;
Back to what you used to be.
How does it feel?
To scratch till there’s just bones and blood,
To feel like a stranded tree in the flood.
Yes I feel that too,
Feeling like falling from a cliff,
Fearing the darkness within when you sleep.
Don’t worry you’re not alone,
There has been many like us,
With hearts of blood and stone.
We’re the flood, the fire, the rain,
We’re the feeling that they get when they fail.
We’re the zero and the infinity both at once,
Negating itself creating a myriad of paradox.
We’re not wrong nor we’re right,
We’re like nature; caring like day and ruthless like nights.
Our destiny is to just be.
Looking for the other half,
Only to fail for eternity.
We’ll always be what life is to death,
What light is to dark.
But beyond that,
We’re something more.
We’re far more than
Damaged goods,
Broken hearts,
Pieces of shards.
We’re the song of life,
We’re the dark of night.
Let them call us what they feel,
We’re not meant to heal.
We’re the fire that burns itself,
We’re the scars,
The screams,
We’re trapped,
We’re as impossible as the 8th fold,
But all in all,
We’re Scratched Souls.