My foresight is murky so I write out goals every day.
None have come alive, on the floor static they lay,
I’ve studied language, perhaps it’s the right word I’m missing
But my dreams are still lifeless, a carpet of clay.

Once my words danced filled with vigour and Truth,
I was called a hero and i had life in each breath,
They never called me that again,
My character lost, now I am Death