Silent Prison

Sometimes quiet is violent,

In the stillness, I hear the sirens,

Echoes of battles I’ve lost in my mind,

I find it hard to hide it,

This emptiness swallows, it’s cruel and blinding.

My pride is no longer inside,

It’s on my sleeve, a mark of my pride,

My skin will scream, a relentless pain,

Reminding me of who I killed in my dream.

Shadows creep in the corners of my soul,

Memories linger, they’re dark and they’re cold,

I wear my scars like a chain to my fate,

But the ghosts of my past whisper, “It’s too late.”

My pride is no longer inside,

It’s on my sleeve, a mark of my pride,

My skin will scream, a relentless pain,

Reminding me of who I killed in my dream.

In the silence, I drown in despair,

The weight of my choices, too heavy to bear,

I’m trapped in this cycle, a loop of regret,

Searching for solace, but I’m lost in the debt.

My pride is no longer inside,

It’s on my sleeve, a mark of my pride,

My skin will scream, a relentless pain,

Reminding me of who I killed in my dream.

Sometimes quiet is violent,

And hope feels like a distant alignment,

With every heartbeat, I sink further down,

In this endless darkness, I’ll forever drown.