Analysis of Hideaway

I hide behind a pen and a paper
With a broken pencil I draw my heart's feelings
I hide, but I can see myself
I try to run, but my feet are wet in love
Every step is a trail print
This feeling follows preying me

Goose bumps on my heart's beats
Shaky like it's sick, so frail
Seeking to be blown by the air
Blindly led by love's dusty hand
But stuck on to the branches of my mind
So rigid, like a mountain it is mount
The leaves susurrate these thoughts
As they rustle, my heart ruminates
In this wrestle, do I show I'm desperate
Do I, or hold on to the unspoken truth

I hear my heart's love beats
To that loud sound I think
Do we die while we try, or
Do we try not to die
Do we stay or fly away
Claim, we let love have her way