In the depths of darkness, I find myself
at odds with the elusive shadows.
It is as if the skeletons hidden in my
closet have found their voice, singing haunting
melodies that reverberate through my being.
With each note, my fears are shaken off,
like leaves falling from a tree in the autumn breeze.

But there is something more sinister
lurking in the corners of my existence.
Death, with her cold fingers, creeps closer,
threatening to steal away the precious moments of my life.
Time, once a constant companion, now seems irrelevant,
a mere observer as I navigate the treacherous path
between angels and demons. Heaven and Hell.

The omens that surround me are like oracles,
weaving a tapestry of the future.
Each thread is sewn with the stitches of a final laugh,
a mocking reminder of the inevitable encounter with death.
Exhaustion weighs heavily upon me, a result
of restless nights and endless toil.

I find myself trapped in a state of utter fatigue,
a working zombie in a world that demands
my every waking moment.
Juggling tasks becomes a Herculean feat,
as my mind struggles to function amidst the chaos.
Sanity slips through my fingers like sand,
and yet I cling to the pen, a lifeline in these unearthly hours.

In this battle against the shadows, I am weary but determined.
I will not let the darkness consume me.
I will continue to fight, to push through the exhaustion,
and to find solace in the written word.

For even in the darkest of nights,
there is a glimmer of hope,
a spark that refuses to be extinguished.