Swimming the Dark Sea

Such pain, such pain this poor heart's born, with so little pleasures in return, much gifts it has bestowed, unearned now, here it lies; morose, forlorn Alas, alas, what curse has brought this wrath upon such an innocent soul, its spirit broken by this tragic role like Atlas or more so, Sisyphus Fall down again from feet to knees to plumb the dark and dreary depths, the length and seemingly infinite breadth of this warm, salty sea of self-pity These murky waters, born from tears these waves and tides that chop and churn, these silent sobs leave one to yearn for one small thing; a tender ear