Schuyler

On the mountain Blood on my hands All we found has Drowned in the sand I killed him, I know I did Heard his name and back I slid Through pride and fear I could not see Extinguished her eternally Climbing down, I Lose my grip Fall to the ground Heart and mind split Now I squander My existence On a bottle Shaped vessel Days spent sinking Elevating Should I stay? I'm sick of waiting If you're broken I still want the pieces But I'm sick of waiting And waiting For what? Should I continue?