A morose mind sans hope,
Embers of unfulfilled ambition's rage.
That one day will quietly wilt,
Dissipate without a trace.
I'm still at it though,
The rudder lost behind.
Hobbling through the hurdles,
The unlit theater of minds.
Kith and cruel kin, litter of sin,
Friends armed with fangs.
Loyalty isn't worth a scruple,
Hordes of cold selfish gangs.
Rats on hedonic treadmills,
Obsessed with pecking order.
Superficially pleasant grimace,
Minds too shallow to ponder.
A darkness has descended on my soul,
It's as heavy as it is not sublime.
The Illusion of time has come to a halt,
This moment certainly not mine
The headwinds are blowing hard,
I'm unable to hold on.
The talons losing foothold,
Loose the layers of con.
Shadowy characters looking on,
They are out to get me.
Merit is dead, the world is fed,
By nefarious greed and monstrosity.
The climb is steep, my problems deep,
I don't think I can do it anymore.
I may fall, this cliff is tall,
A nightmare from before.
My screams are muted,
There's no air to breathe.
Gasping for life, raspy groans,
I feel the loose soil underneath.
I may be already dead,
Or maybe my feelings are that way,
Everything is wrapped in grief,
Everywhere it's a glum gray.
