What are we but bludgeoned souls,
Clawing at the cusps of mortality.
Finding ways to stay alive,
Amidst the rumours and doubts of termination.
Alone are we, victims of our own miseries,
Hope, an illusion hard to leave sight of.
Torture me O endless agony and ruin,
Burning to the ground the very glimmer of hope.
My arms left flailing into the abyss of imagined respite.
Amidst this crowd I’ve screamed, unheard, echoes hung in the air.
Engorged in such torments is my putrid soul,
Forever in mourning, forever at sea.