It's a cry for help; a whisper in the wind, perhaps.
Unknown to the rest of the world, a silent killer.
It's like drowning in a puddle, or searing skin on a match,
Grabbing a deflated life preserver, or drenching a flame with a teaspoon.
It's heart wrenching and unbearable at times,
Fighting perpetually in a rigged contest.
Enduring an endless battle.