I guess the darkness is a bit too much,
Striving for the end is over the top.
Gifted, I might be,
Is it wrong to not believe in it ?
Is it wrong to want to stop ?
Fiddling and twiddling thumbs,
Counting down the last few seems.
Was it worth it ?
To have breathed ?
To have felt ?
Blundering all but skins,
Searching for solace in the red,
In self destruction.
Scouted beings for sanity,
Tuning out the norm.
Floundering about in self pity,
Gashes loudly screaming,
Give in, or, give up ?
Dancing on the grave of the embers.
Awaiting a glimpse of pandora’s last resort.
Unsounded writhing bliss,
In masochistic dreams.
In lieu of overdrawn curtains.
Should I begin ?
To stay awake.
Shall I look into a reflection ?
To get over the foreboding stigma.
I await the epiphany.