Depressed again.
Wish I were dead.
Can't silence thoughts
within my head.
I picture death.
A warm embrace.
Eternal slumber
to rest my face.
Cracked cheeks from smiling
with rotten teeth.
Decayed from lying
a putrid sheath.
Don't want attention.
Need to be heard.
My head hangs low
with every word.
My heart grows heavy,
my knees are weak.
Can't find the strength
to help me speak.
Don't want to cry
but can't stop the rain.
Can't prove to me
that I am sane.
Can't convince myself
that life will bloom.
Instead I feel
life is my tomb.
A shambled corpse
who's heart still beats.
I walk alone
down stoney streets.
No one to listen
to my pleas of pain
The thoughts that prod
still rot my brain.
I have a voice
that listens close.
It has no choice
for I'm it's host.
But closer yet
the thought of death.
The promise of
my final breath.
I'll fight it now
as I fought it then.
But every battle
must meet it's end.
Don't let me go.
But let me rest.
I've fought so long
I've tried my best.
I'm tired. Sore.
The thought sublime
I wish I had
more precious time.
©hollywood.
H