Quicksand.

Drops of rain in paths of sand
Wind and tears, hand in hand
Whispering trees by the rippling lake
Telling me the same things again.

Rocky roads that twist and turn
Too much inside left to burn
Darkness where I look for light
I'm too tired to go on.

Walking along, blank and cold
Walls everywhere, nowhere to go
Stuck again, the same old way
I'm going back inside.