Feeling a walking distance away from a peculiar fall from grace,
a strange enough sensation in a strange unfamiliar atmosphere.

Impulses controlling an obvious urge, to quench a desire,
probably more of a necessity.

If I ever fall from grace, if it's time that's breaking me now, I hope
I land on softer ground.

   These unfamiliar words, these sudden unaccustomed feelings
of killing the demons of my own personal desires.

I'm slowly falling to the ground and I'm doubting if I should ever
hold on.