It’s a sinking
feeling, an ominous feeling; like to fight or flight with strength for naught.
It is a murderous feeling.
Gnawing on the back of
my neck; crawling on my skull crevices.
Reaching through my
ears and messing in my brain.
Not an illusion, not a
premonition.
The calm before the
storm; while lost on a sea of sand…
On my chest my heart
is pounding; beaten to a pulp in a battered pool of blood.
This place is
depleting me, it’s dragging me down.
A thousand sleepless nights
on a thousand needles bed.
No rest for the
wounded, never rest for the dead.
It’s the eternal song
of these feelings.
The eternal darkness
of my soul.