I'm breaking; I'm shaking; a crumbling weakness of tearing away,
I'm fading; It's raining; drowning in regrets for things I dared to say.
The nights are darker than what they used to be; maybe it's me,
Overwhelmed with despair that cannot be repaired; crazy it seems.
The light is just a dim hope; a spiders thread to keep tight a hold,
And for this very thought of ease and peace; a conflict of the soul.
My pain isn't the blood that leaks from my eyes; weary of crying,
Nor the wounds and scars inflicted from perseverance of fighting.
My pain is the screams that aren't heard; the dying wishes,
Yet I struggle to find a word to describe exactly what this is.
I find solace in the silent skies of night; maybe the stars listen,
But I hear whispers of past; don't tread where the snakes are hissing.
In times of cold; In times like old even your shadow is a friend,
Sitting besides you in a dark corner on the wall's narrow end.
What is agony; can it be described by a string of rhyming words,
Through poetry; sonnets; songs or lyrics; what is it worth?
Sometimes I wonder if sorrow is infinite in this dead world,
But I find that we have only seen the good in what is worse.
Blinded by ignorance; our minds remain trapped in internal battles,
Like the eternal torture of hell; held prisoner by the infernal shackles.
My heart is empty; you shall find no pool of emotions and feelings,
The stars are heavy; no radiant moon to hope in or believe in.
We must contemplate if everything we lived for was really worth it,
After all; what is a barren soul bereft of life and defeated purpose?