Bloody Mud

Standing in a bloody mud,
Sinking by the minutes,
Should I struggle to save myself?
Or have myself drown?
Should I reach for someone?
Reach for a hand,
I catch nothing, nothing to safe me,
Still, I should stay, so I won’t go down fast,
This is quick sand you see not a raging sea,
Even sand and water have feelings,
They pull their victims down,
Down into their cold belly.
Standing in a bloody mud,
Should I struggle to sink fast?
Hope that I catch something by the second,
Or still should I stay, sinking by the minutes,
Hoping a hand will come?