A Symphony of Despair

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Lost in perpetual distraction,
Hopelessness consumes my soul.
I utter words of weariness,
Longing for an end to it all.

But I remain stagnant,
No action to break the chains.
A tortured existence,
Yet I seek no reprieve, no gains.

Pathetic, they say,
And perhaps they are right.
For I wallow in despair,
With no will to fight.

I yearn for escape,
Yet make no move to be free.
A pitiful existence,
This is my reality.

Dean's Introspection and PoetryWhere stories live. Discover now