Emptiness,
A try to fill.
Fear,
A chance of courage.
Failing to prove against both,
This mountain unwilling to climb.
A crashed plane with no rescue,
Yet hope for change.
Is always on the morrow,
What then shall one prove?
Or should they end all with no try?
My dilemma,
My unending tumble.
Time to choose,
No longer to stumble.

Why can’t I write?
Like I once did before,
Tragedy and remedy.
Wrapped up simply yet in a hoard,
What bounding breaks of wording.
Make truth simply desired not abhorred,
When words of life are ever fleeting.
A desire of wanting the same but more.

I am but one point in time,
Of release or capture.
Far down the line,
Breathe in, then release after.
Of worry, hard to let go,
Make better with time.
This failing truth I know,
Swimming in the dark murky swamp.
Depths of empty abyss proceed me,
Cries for freedom tis that life be over.
All forsaken in this tiring race to be free.
Destitution in sorrow slows the pace,
Empty is the ride that’s over.
Lowly disgraced.

I said to see,
This shining sea.
A case for all to be,
Of tried and tired.
Creation and tyranny,
Why must we fall and rise?
Why must some end in misery?
Does the sun not shine for all?
Revealing all to see,
The world, a ******* up blue ball.
Full of man’s ire destiny,
Is it of destiny or prophecy?
For man it is both,
A tempest *** of problematic dreams.

What is but solemn grace,
The man forgotten by men.
He seeks the world for riches and glory,
Yet learns there are better men in place.
What ** and wonder,
This cosmic ball of life we play.
Where truth and lies dance together,
Like words with exchanging names.
So forget the man forgotten,
His name rubbed off of glory’s vain.
Where he sits and waits on the worlds revolution,
No redemptive grace.
So forget the man,
Clean the slate.
The world is already a noisy place.

Compressed chest,
Fully stressed.
Is it ending now?
I crumble in the corner,
Of my few days left.
Fire swirling in the dusk,
Hard to push on.
I fear I have no second chance,
No room left to breath.
My only light,
Dim in the foreboding night.
Feeling stretched till eternity,
Wanting to run.
Can’t leave,
Needing breathe for the last stretch.
Passing out into my abysmal lost wretch
Gone are the moments I can’t remember.
In this, my awful mess.

It's time to go,
Don't you know.
The insides rotting away,
I've done nothing.
To gain my spot,
Tearing holes inside my head.
This dread is full of no appeal,
Burning days for tomorrow.
A wish of better concealed,
Death is but a seldom advertisement.
The salesman with a better deal.