I long to die
And have eternal respite
From these tormenting woes.
Yet I'm afraid that
Upon closing the eyes,
Will ensue regrets.
But if I live,
and force myself to breathe
this air of lead,
I shall spend days and nights
Lying in bed.
For there is no soul
As tired as mine—prematurely worn
By the hands of Time.
Mar 18, 2017
Mar 18, 2017 at 8:00 AM UTC
I long to die
And have eternal respite
From these tormenting woes.
Yet I'm afraid that
Upon closing the eyes,
Will ensue regrets.
But if I live,
and force myself to breathe
this air of lead,
I shall spend days and nights
Lying in bed.
For there is no soul
As tired as mine—prematurely worn
By the hands of Time.
