Decomposition of My Dignity

I am being held hostage by a pressing force of incognizant, and I am impregnated in a world of spiraling storms of confusion. Fragments of memories prods my mind. Sudden and swift memories of my failings and sins are but a measured minute of my life. Why can't I remember slipping into this fog of incertitude, this doom pressing force of incognizant. My heart grows numb against the days and nights that I spend in despondency. Familiar faces shifts to peculiar and ill-boding images. Solitude is a conundrum of emptiness. A bittersweet embrace. My tongue is locked in an aphasia space. My brain has forgotten its ability to command, and so my legs and arms have no will of its own. I want to run away, run to a place that will strike a familiar note in my brain. I hate being handled by strangers who pull at me and torture me with applications of abuse. In a regular diurnal, my dignity is decomposing. Despair is the song of my wretched soul. I can not stop crying. copyright Labyrinth of Life