End Song

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Some days my mind turns static and grey,

leaving me to wallow in a prison of self decay.


Short and ragged become my silent cries,

that flutter on breaths fearful of demise.


Where did I fail, how did life go so wrong?

Is this the beginning of my end song?


Any measure of relief seems worth a desperate grasp,

just a sliver of peace to hold while the moment lasts.


My mind's eye pushes my sight to stretch and reach,

searching for the hope that will come as a breach.


With dawn faded behind me and dusk hiding the light,

I sink into the sterile comfort of another blind night.

Reflections and ShadowsOn viuen les histories. Descobreix ara