PERSONAL POETRY

Sweet Grave

Talking to my grave,

Wondering what would bring me there

Is it the shame of losing?

Or the stress of not moving?

Is it the weariness of feeling?

Or the numbness I'm craving?

Is it the hollow that's growing?

Or the darkness I'm yearning?

Is it the fear of falling?

Or to never ever knowing?

Is it the hope i'm losing?

Or the faith I'm now lacking?

Is there a monster inside of me?

Or am I losing grip on sanity?

The irony of still breathing,

Is wanting to stop so badly

I cannot comprehend,

How much I want it to end

So tell me my sweet grave,

When will I make my descend?