How Much More?
Time has no meaning to me anymore.
It's merely a ticking of one pain to the next.
Sometimes hard to endure.
Physical, dental, mental,
all are shot.
What I've become, I'd rather not.
Sleep won't come when you can't breath.
Peace of mind is too much to achieve.
There's nothing to look forward to.
There is no joy in mudville.
My last vestige of strength,
my humor, it too runs short.
Each attempt at sleep I soon abort.
Even my music of late brings me little joy.
My confidence shattered, like a broken toy.
My problems small compared to many at soup.
But for me they're living hell, my contant all consuming pain.
I sense my will begin to drain.
Just give me two hours of painless rest,
and perhaps I'll rally and pass this test.
But no one is listening. No God hears at all.
Another night in hell,
Into which I soon will fall..
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