Falling Vol. 4 (The Great Depression) 

​Feeling my heart pumps stronger than ever 

Inhaling flames of fire exhaling poetry 

My hands are shaking trying to write the mysteries of my soul

I see how my pen struggles to declare its weakness at the attendance of fate 

I notice how my blood is boiling at the mention of something 

Something so dear and priceless that I’ve lost 

I feel the strong wave trying to pull me down and drown me in hopelessness and sorrow 

I hear it the sound of my steps running from voices of the past hunting my back  I touch it the heavy chain of desperation around my neck strangling my throat  Trying to cut my self free I also cut my last thread of hope

 I see myself falling off the edge after I was chasing falling stars 

And while I was falling my mind was frozen 

My feet were paralyzed 

My last hope was stolen 

And to the bottom I had fallen

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