Sometimes I wish to slip away, unknown,
Fall away from everything that I know;
I would etch pain into every last bone
And cast the fire out to dwindle and go.

Sometimes, in an hour that becomes daunting
I wish to banish my mind away to nought
And lose the cold thoughts taunting, following.
But the cold - it will never leave these thoughts.

Sometimes, when my will gives in and topples,
The fear hastens as the anguish thickens
And that feeling fastens, the cold throttles -
Choked words are lost to voices so hidden.

As warm colours merge to grey, distorted
I  see a world so distant and thoughtless.