Lost...

Guilt takes yourself home when my monitor is full screened
How you could give up so easily only because I'm absent
How you could tell me the truth that you don't believe in
It amazes me how fear really can take hold

I'll never know though, how much it really costs
To see yourself hung upon thin strings
You're at risk, get out, get out now
Since trust is no longer an issue, it's the lack of it

Dots fill the past seven pages
How concern becomes an obsession for head heroes
I'll never become someone you can hold on to
Because your sleeping is restless in my hands

Maybe it's too much to handle, too much to hold
Far too great for those clay hands to grasp
Too heavy for your head to comprehend
But this my friend, is where the faith comes