Forlorn
The clock strikes twelve.
The echo rings.
It chimes, it tolls, and of memories it does sing.
Of past success or recent failure.
Love, lust, or simply pleasure.
As the hours tick by ever so slow.
I can't help but wonder where I will go.
Certainly forward, never looking back.
But thoughts soon cease as I fade to black.
Dark shadows cast and demons creep.
My descent into madness, now complete.
Trapped and imprisoned in my own head.
So full of pain, so full of dread.
So alone. So afraid.
Without you, I am unmade.
I grasp and cling to the shards that remain.
But in the end it's all the same.
Broken, beaten, scarred.
You never tried too hard.
With every broken heart,
I had lost before the start.
You are my sicknes, my weakness, my pain.
How I wish for it all again.