PTSD is the epitome of a kind of wound
The wound is one you'll never heal from
Flashbacks and dreams, memories of slaughter
And the torment from the wounds you endured
Things burned in your brain, darkness forever
World of darkness, capricious thoughts return
Normal life impossible, feeling utterly insane
World sees you as broken and false sympathy
But you never asked for this, chosen for pain
Give your highest hopes no chance to happen
As you begin to rise, then beaten down again
With no cure, there is only losing one's fight
While fighting the demons to the death
In between breaths, seeking the light
And being blinded by the path
That allows you to find hope
At last you are able to come
And hope burns bright
The wound is one you'll never heal from
Flashbacks and dreams, memories of slaughter
And the torment from the wounds you endured
Things burned in your brain, darkness forever
World of darkness, capricious thoughts return
Normal life impossible, feeling utterly insane
World sees you as broken and false sympathy
But you never asked for this, chosen for pain
Give your highest hopes no chance to happen
As you begin to rise, then beaten down again
With no cure, there is only losing one's fight
While fighting the demons to the death
In between breaths, seeking the light
And being blinded by the path
That allows you to find hope
At last you are able to come
And hope burns bright
