Miracles Aren't Real

in all the same

I've scraped together my last ambitions,

I'm done, I'm lost and haven't found

what I've lost , I've lost it all

Barely myself anymore, haven't slept

God, save me from this hell I've build, its chilling me to the soul

it isn't the fire and demons I've expected or the things that I can't accept

I can't hear anything, or feel the warmth of light

always dark and cold, like an unescapable dread.

it follows me all the time, the only constant in my life.

I want to disappear, so how will I go out?

The real hell, or so I've heard,

Is your life gone wrong, and mine has gone

very, very wrong.

so what's the. matter? why can't I just fade

I've been through hell but still not back so why not just stay?

I've grown to be the cold and dark, but its as though I was doomed from the start

doomed from the first breath I took, and every time I closed my eyes

doomed even as I pray now, looking up to find some distant light.

its not there anymore, replaced by a black hole

everywhere I look now is a reminder of my failure,