I have lost.
Count.
Or stopped.
Counting..
On others.
I exhale.
To dispell.
Hopeless.
Nights.
As i drag.
Heavy.
Feet.
To.
Ward.
The darkness.
I fall.
Tier after.
Tear.
To tare.
A.
way.
Sadly.
Division wins.
Again.

It reeks here.
Pungent yet sweet.
Like.
Accepting an unwanted apology.
Woe to the tragically gracious.
For they know not of rest.
As sharks circle about.
Devouring the essence spewed from an unclosing artery.
Until all that's left.
Is a vacant shell.
Not even worth the effort to finish off.
Gluttonuos beings.
The both.
Unknowingky knowing the need.
Of eachother.
For the cause of such suffering.
Bleeds into the affect given.
Effecting the rest.
Distortion needs no introduction.
A slight.
Handing over the next.
Riddled with more questions.
And even as the last die.
Is cast.
A tear falls.
Probably.

Everything has a price.
Each time the bell toles.
A payment is made.
The rhythmic thump.
Is only a reminder.
Of how taxing it all is.
There is no.
First prize.
No encore.
As the curtain falls.
All that is waiting is silence.
And darkness.
Only death has not come.
He stands patiently to the side.
Grinning.
It seems.
This is his favorite game.

It's hard.
To do the one thing.
So many say.
Should be easy.
The physical world.
Is all I know.
Beyond that.
Is theoretical.
Which in have come to find is quite.
Simple.
When and how.
Its textbook.
Only my surroundings protest at its.
Magnitude.
I must be looking at this equation.
Wrong.
Two plus two equals four.
Yet sadness and loss equal so much more.
This rubix cube of emotions.
Can it be solved?

A routine has been formed.
One that crippled what smile is left.
Leaving a bad taste.
On a worse mood.
It is said.
Willpower.
Exceeds the minds threshold.
But it can only keep those standing.
For so long after the tank read empty.
Rims bare..
Tires nonexistent.
Was this once a vehicle?
The bells and whistle have long since fallen away.
Negligence can ****.
Even the most relient.
Patience into anger.
Understanding to woe.
There are just to many excuses..
Reasons.
To why.
Justification is required
In the end.
Breaking down.
Seems to be the only solution left.
For little else matters.
As apathy sets in.
Slowly the light from the eyes fade.
And...
Motivation..
May soon follow suit

There is absolutely.
Nothing.
That can be put down.
Without having some sort of predecessor...
Like embarking on a grand adventure.
Will sooth the distress within.
Channeling more against an already rampant current.
Only leads to the depths that one has become so well acquainted.
Yet persistent is the ignorant.
Craving an end no longer attainable.
Anything can stir the wanting.
When all that is left is the road ahead

Gears continuously grind.
Bit by bit.
More is chiseled away.
A steady.
Screeching pace.
But it is the silence that must be feared.
When the cranking continues.
And no momentum gained.
The beast moves just for that point alone.
Out of routine.
With insides rusted.
And oiled.
Progress seems relevant.
Sought for even.
But this robotic organism is hard.
To face.
Alone.
Is a constant.
Talk.
Sick.
A rampaging viral plague.
Calculated they say.
Must this faux dance recital.
Go on.
Only until it all.
Comes down