I slide down the side, pushed down toward the bottom.I was so far up, I thought I saw the light.
Now I sit, down on the bottom, where days and night are dark.

I try to climb up, day by day, hour by hour, second by second.
But I cannot reach the top.
Or will not reach the top.

The well is my home, it’s always here, it never rejects me.
The darkness is warm, never asks for anything.
Except my soul.

Rain pours down.
Blood pour down.

The well is my savior.