WALKING A TIGHT ROPE,AN ELECTRIC WIRE,THE CURRENT RACES THROUGH ME ALL I CAN FEEL IS FIRE..MY BLOOD BEGINS TO BOIL,MY SKIN BEGINS TO PEAL.THIS RAGE THAT BURNS INSIDE OF ME IS ALL I CAN FEEL.ANY MEMORIES FROM A LUCID MIND HAVE ALL BEEN LEFT BEHIND,REPLACED BY THIS MADNESS AND THOUGHTS SO UNKIND.ALL I HEAR ARE THE ECHOES OF VISIONS PAINTED ON WALLS,AS I STARE AT EMPTY PICTURE FRAMES THAT DECORATE THESE HALLOWED HALLS.MY SILENCE DEFENS ME IT HAS BECOME LOUDER THAN A DRUM,I'M A PRISONER TO MY THOUGHTS AND WHAT I'VE BECOME.GUILTY IN MY MIND OF CRIMES I DIDNT COMMITT,WHILE I HOLD THE HANDS OF THOSE WHO ENABLE ME HELPING ME TO QUIT.MY PAIN IS LIKE QUICKSAND BOTTOMLESS AND THICK.BUT I'VE LEARNED TO LIVE EACH DAY SLOWLY AS OPPOSED TO ENDING IT QUICK.I'M WALKING ON A TIGHTROPE BUT IF I JUST STOP AND PRAY,I WILL ALWAYS MAINTAIN THE BALANCE TO GET THROUGH EACH DAY..