It’s there,
It’s always there,
The bane of my very existence.
I pray for it to go away,
But it fights my resistance.
My own thoughts,
They've become my enemy,
Plotting and scheming
To dismantle me.
What am I to do if my reason for living
Is gone?
What is the future if my purpose
Is wrong?
I have been focused,
I’ve done what’s been asked,
Yet, my body can’t fulfill
What it’s been tasked.
If this is the end,
What was it all for?
To bleed my emotions
Until they’re raw?
To test me and best me
In all that I tried,
To play me and beat me
‘Til my hands are tied?
So throw me on the heap,
I’m all spent and done.
Let me fester in the dark,
Don’t let in the sun.
For what am I if this is all that there is?
What am I now, after all of this?
Comments