A

Loss of Inspiration.

The thunderous clouds sing
songs of sympathy for the unfortunate
For the ones who've been lifeless long before
A youthful age.

Adrenaline flows through my veins
'Being an illusion
Excitement
'improvisations of pretentious happiness
My interest is neutral
I'd rather be gone
My existence makes no difference.

A lack of circulation
internally my veins suffocate
The oxygen that pumps blood into my heart.

At times like this
Faiths a worthless vassal
the lost of our mounting inspiration
'now more than ever.
What's to be done?
Nothing freely allow this sickness
to devour me whole.

"I could help you get
through hard times
You'll have to take my hand
Maiden y
you mustn't drown!"

Survival?
My entire life I've lived on the edge
of momentum
Escaping from my true self
living in the present
Fleeing from my combusted disgrace

Quit seeking change
In the end I'll always wind
up crashing into my monstrous self.

~Yours Truly,