What I've Told

I will burn myself to the ground

Before I ever let you down.

Banish myself to Hell.

With no chance of coming out.

you may ask, "this matters how?"

And this is what I'll tell,

My soul won't make a sound.

Not when you're around.

It always screams and shouts.

And I'm tired of being loud.

I'm tired of the noise.

Echoes in my head.

I'll keep this pain from you.

Until I'm finally dead.

You see?

There's no hope for me.

My mind's gone on a stroll.

And when I stop, six feet deep,

You might remember what I've told.