22 February 2013
My touch is lifeless. My hands are numb. My fear is endless. My mood is glum.
My thoughts are dreaded. My knees are weak. My hurt embeded. My eyes do leak.
My effort, non-existant. My visions blurred. My pain resistant. My words are slurred.
My pathetic existance, a scripted fate. My life is over. Hope's far too late.
Oath Of A F*ck Up • Opuss № I