Dystopia - Scraped to the Flesh


Look at the blinded eye of your reflection
In which your wounded soul claims a body
Thousands of thoughts wait for resolution
Was it a coincidence or was it intended?

You muse all alone on the circumstances
The things that used to force you directives
There's a cage in your hand, but the sky in the other
Decide upon where's your past and your future

Is it worth tearing a healing wound open?
Diving in the swamp that you're always drawn in

Are these feelings yours, or just the ones you took for yourself?
Please try and leave self-pity 'cause it makes no sense

Is it worth tearing a healing wound open?
Diving in the swamp that you're always drawn in

Are these feelings yours, or just the ones you took for yourself?
Please try and leave self-pity 'cause it makes no sense
Your past is the shelter of your decisions
The place you seek for the answers
But its no more than a bunch of thoughts scraped to the flesh

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