I can't breathe, and I can't shake away this feeling
that something dark and heavy is about to crush my spirit.
And I can't say a word, neither a sentence;
I can't pretend that I mean it.
Meanwhile, the silence sinks in.
And then is when I realize,
that the phantom that I fear is already there;
that the stillness of the air,
is the real monster lurking.
This silence is that weight,
so weary and soul crushing,
that I feared at the beginning.
I see it now; I see it clearly.
Still, I remain quiet
as I emptily stare
at the spinning ceiling.
I can't smile, can't laugh,
can't feel any feelings,
besides terror and anguish,
and a terrible hunger
for serenity, tranquility.
Truly, I want to sleep in an eternal slumber,
just so I can't wake up under this clashing thunder;
under this storm that violently breaks
my will to live, my love, my grace.
I want to lay in a bed of roses
and be at peace with the path I've chosen.
I want to leave this world,
and yet, I don't want to die,
I just want a moment of relief;
like that instant when you see
the pale moonlight
cutting through the shadows of the night,
cutting through the black curtains that cover the entire earth,
and darkens your sight.
I want to live again,
and yet, I want to sleep until death.
I want this silence to end
with a shrieking scream,
that bends the air
and stirs the wind.
And yet, I fear the voice
that will tear through it.
