"The Wynds\Reigns of My Soul."

This depression sucks and the
darkness that shrouds my mind

It seems that my luck has run
its course
Am I stuck in this rut dubbed...

"Jacksonville,"

The State it's in

The, "State," that it puts my mind in

Is this my punishments... my,

"Purgatory,"

Overcome it, will ever I; and, unscathed
above it finally rise

Because I here suffocate and as to
whether or not this is my fate brood I

Should resolve accept I and be shackled
by its chain

But even in the impatience and strain I
feel pnuema within compelling to never
relent: because the fate I'll be given isn't
written in stone but with the wynds that
are blowing within my own tortured
soul

I'll take my own wynds like reigns and
lead myself and no other; and be my
own Captain so that wherever I choose,
i drop the fucking anchor