This world is an imperfect place
With darkness all around me.
That pure little light, so cold, so dim,
Lost to oblivion for all eternity.
So much pain is caused in this lifetime
Through suffering, loss, death...
But nothing touches the kind of pain
That comes with each tattered breath.
The truest of all agony
Does not come from a broken heart,
But it comes from you lying down,
Clutching your chest,
Willing yourself not to fall apart.
J. Cross
P