The thin ice is cracking down below my feet
Which divides my reason from insanity
I feel about ready to fall into the great release
And lose sense of time, my sense of reality
The pressure on my shoulders further cracks the frozen tile
My composure will only last for just another little while
I regret letting myself live beyond the worry-free child
I can only hope it's just another turn around the dial
The cracks begin to gather to a spiderweb of bad decisions
I feel the cold wet shadows gather round to build my prison
I scream and cry for help but no one cares enough to listen
I can only blame myself for my own mental sedition
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem