Riding through the Burning Wind

I run through life, I examine this knife, I wonder how long it has been, since I first started this fight, This fight between, life and death, The fight that always leaves me, in a bloody mess, The fight that shows I always fail the test, That I am not trying, even close to my very best, This wind the churns, This wind that urns, This wind that burns, To let me know there is always a way to change, To others I seem completely inhumane, Or rather what little friends I have call me insane, I do not like to admit And I do not like to commit The things I do all the time, which are nothing, but sin, But this is how I go through life, my life known as, the burning wind.