In the coldness and the dark
Emptiness, existance stark
Not so much as a tiny spark
Unable to utter one remark
The emptiness of this void
Where mind and spirit are destroyed
Where despair is there deployed
Leaves you feeling paranoid
To all you call humanity
Ends now your affinity
Leaving you in calamity
And pusillanimity
Never from this place to move
Stuck forever in this groove
Never goodness to reprove
Of your wellness none behoove
Lost to you are faith and hope
As if pulled out by a rope
You not knowing how to cope
In the blackness vainly *****
And although you loudly cry
No one seems to even try
To lend you aid though nearby
All so simple but then why?
In you're every waking thought
A hopeless end that comes to nought
In a web seems to be caught
All the joy that you forgot
Out of the darkness of your fear
****** your mind of any cheer
Keenly edged and oh so near
It seems to you to be so dear
In this place of blackest mire
Death becomes your sole desire
As you begin to slowly tire
Of all the things you did admire
What would I do to be free?
End the life given me?
In this state I seem to see
No way to prosperity
Dec 10, 2012
Dec 10, 2012 at 5:37 AM UTC
In the coldness and the dark
Emptiness, existance stark
Not so much as a tiny spark
Unable to utter one remark
The emptiness of this void
Where mind and spirit are destroyed
Where despair is there deployed
Leaves you feeling paranoid
To all you call humanity
Ends now your affinity
Leaving you in calamity
And pusillanimity
Never from this place to move
Stuck forever in this groove
Never goodness to reprove
Of your wellness none behoove
Lost to you are faith and hope
As if pulled out by a rope
You not knowing how to cope
In the blackness vainly *****
And although you loudly cry
No one seems to even try
To lend you aid though nearby
All so simple but then why?
In you're every waking thought
A hopeless end that comes to nought
In a web seems to be caught
All the joy that you forgot
Out of the darkness of your fear
****** your mind of any cheer
Keenly edged and oh so near
It seems to you to be so dear
In this place of blackest mire
Death becomes your sole desire
As you begin to slowly tire
Of all the things you did admire
What would I do to be free?
End the life given me?
In this state I seem to see
No way to prosperity
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