On the edge of a nervous breakdown,
staring into the pit.
Unsure of which way to turn;
whether or not to commit.

Commit to the life I have,
or abandon hope for good.
Vision cloaked in darkness,
head bowed beneath the hood.

Drawn toward its anarchy,
seduced by lesson learned.
Restrained by one last hope,
heart and soul and fingers burned.

Chilling thoughts consume me,
fighting desires to be free.
If no choice is ever made by fate,
is this all that it will be?