Its an endless succession
Of broken things breaking the rest.
Of clueless minds leaving all else perplexed
And of restless thoughts projecting on unsuspecting friends.
Along the way of life framed by self sabotage
How many do we heave into the abyss of our mind
Those that deserve not to be troubled with our insecurities
But end up in the chaotic whirlpool nonetheless.
Those that cared enough to stop and enquire
Enough to attempt to build us a bridge to the brighter side
Rescue us from the dark depths of our own mind
But instead are now lost in the torrent of incurable desperation.
Oh, to be a broken thing breaking the rest.
To be aware of the repulsive projections we make
And yet be incapable of turning the dark into bright.
Oh, to be plunged into a bottomless pit and tug friends along.