Craft, Craved, Carved
Goosebumps strike as if cold creep under my skin
Frostbite gnawing my fingers making me lost my touch
Each fragments freeze my brain making me lost in thoughts
Each pieces cuts deep, my sanity fading
The heat become unbearable as my hands damp with sweats
As if my heart pump a steam machine
Blood leaking with each breath overheat
Rip and tear doubt to shreds, burn my lasting slithering dread
Guilt and pride are equal in the scale of pressure
Fear and hunger are two things of the same
Each flip of the coin won't face me and I'm chasing my tail
Play the bad hands, stands the hazard of my death
Be a good loser, off the suit, off the set
Break the stones and break my bones
Break the stick through tricky picks
Build the step brick by brick
Only genuine stories worth to be told
Only the true glory carved into a rough stone
--Ulrich Bahn, 14/3/2024
Theme : Self, Carpe Diam (Sieze the day) / Death