The Weight of Existence
Every moment, a mountain rests on my breath, The heaviness of my eyes grows with each blink of death. My heart shudders, beats with a painful sting, My soul drips away with the ticking of the clock’s ring. If life is measured by the liveliness of the soul, I died centuries ago. But the audacious strength of my body to suffer, Doesn’t let me go. Breathing is hard while I watch the clock tick, Every second every moment makes me feel more sick. Every inch of soul is begging to depart, Shattered, broken, my thousand pieces of heart. My spirits are doomed with the pain I bear, My eyes dry after shedding every possible tear. I sit lifeless with my hopes burnt to ash, Breathing is a torture, a cruel, endless clash. How I wish we could die by choice. And put an end to this torment and plight I no longer have the strength to endure this pain. That swells every day, swallowing my might.
