We walk through the dark, with the sounds of the bullets we dodge.
Leading the way to our imminent self destruction.
Navigating over mines in our sleep, is all that sets us apart from the weak.
It's what gravitates us forward, to be the one who's pointing the gun, and not the one left unrewarded.
I can feel this, the ground below me, about to give way, the remnants of myself to be discarded.
All of this.
Everything has to fall apart in order to rebuild it from the heart.
I guess I'm not alone with the fall to the bottom, or perhaps that's just where I belong.
Unable to tell right, without all the wrong.
But I'm right here beside you, you're down here with me.
I'm in pieces without you, the darkness is all that I can see.
I have to destroy myself in order for me to rebuild.
The wrath in tow is the necessary step in the opposite direction.
I have to know which way I'm going, and I feel that I know what I need to do.
The realization is only half the answer, in this fucked up equation.
You dig yourself a hole, not knowing how far to go.
Only knowing that the depth, is related to the strength it takes, to make it out.
What happens when having taken on too much, is what defines a fighter.