You ever feel the will of your soul die?
It’s not something you second guess.
Your body aches, your spine shakes.
The eyes you once had have changed.
The shadow takes place.
The shadow takes place.
The dark cloud rains.
It hangs above, pours and rains.
Thunder strikes and lightning shines.
Once you see beauty in the dark, you no longer desire the light.
The light is what once held you high, but failed you.
Your comfort in failure, nothing more than empty vessels.
Just like the ones that die for a taste of the way it feels to not be such a fucking waste.
A mistake.
A waste.
But we look up to the sky.
To only see black.
The same comfort as the dark that lets us relax.
Relax in our disaster filled lives.
Breathing in the air of the filth, the wretched who walk the path of the wicked.
The weak spine narrow minded life of being worthless.
Living a reality with no fucking purpose.
With no purpose.
With no purpose.
With no purpose.
With no purpose.
With no purpose.
With no purpose.