Depleted and defeated
I lay, with the
Blade calling my name.
Waiting for the end to come,
I've become mentally numb.
Nowhere left to turn,
I let the pages burn
to ash where they will stay.
No one left to turn to,
and nowhere left to go.
I'm sick of feeling like this,
and the blade keeps calling.
I keep going, to the point
where there is no end.
I'll make my final stand
on unsteady ground
with the walls tumbling down.
Back against the wall,
I've said it all.
With all I've had to say,
it never really mattered anyway.
YOU ARE READING
Endless Days *Completed*
شِعرA collection of poems that I have written. Most of them are based on life events. Some of them may be disturbing to some readers. Comments and votes are very much appreciated. Thanks!