What Do I Do?
Point of view midevil
what am I to do?
Do I give it all up,
Or do I keep pushing through?
There are always words unspoken.
Pure rymes to form in the head.
Releasing them cost you tokens,
token's spent to relieve the dread.
What the hell am I to speak?
Lung's restricted, I cannot breath.
Do I keep seeking life,
or Do I start seeking relief?...
What am I to see?
Eyes blinded,
No source for relief,
No beginning to match no end:
Now on the darkness I have to depend.
What am I to hear?
Not a breath nor a sound near,
do I feel for the vibration's in the air?
Do I clutch for what's not thier?
Nerve's send my brain no sound,
Can my heart no longer hear the pound
...I cannot tell.
What am I to taste?
My tounge latches on with haste.
Bud's wishing, fantasising, dreaming,
of something,
in the end, it's always nothing,
NOTHING!
DAMMIT! What am I to smell!?
The salt of my tear's from the eyes that have swelled,
The sweat from the heat of the hands that I held...
The blood from my veins because I don't give a damn,
I don't have a care.
Or, the rain that fell and seeped through my hair...
its dry now.
...What am I suppose to touch?
In here, there's nothing to feel,
No living matter to grasp onto
Nothing to say, "This is REAL!"
And then, what if its not?
What if this was a dream made for me to concoct?
What if I'm in a delirium, wretching with strife,
What if I'm in a coma and someone IS holding me tight?
What I'm just needy,
What if I'm just crazy,
What if, MY GOD! Why are there alway's maybe's?
Maybe, Maybe, MAYBE...
Maybe...I'm not real.
Is that why I can't see, smell, hear, taste, or feel?
Maybe I'm imaginary, Maybe I don't exist,
Maybe I should just give up;
Maybe, this is it...
I don't want it to be.
So, what do I do?
I finally see light in a white hue.
Thing's are whispering, "Please save her..."
"The grip's of death, will it release her?"
I believe there's an implied maybe.
This time will it save me?
Maybe, I don't know.
I don't believe time can tell me so.
And there's that "thing" again.
It says, "Take a nap, it will end."
Who like's the word end...
It take's me back into the darkness.
I thought I won, fought this.
What am I to do?
Vision stained black...
Nothing but black.
I'll sit, lay whatever it is I am,
I'll wait.
And let this thing called time pass.
END
