“I feel my life so empty. It is preferable to fill a tomb to being doomed to live out a life that is empty” ~ By Poet. Darkness encompasses my space. My future is seen so bleak where feral beasts hide. Not even a glow worm to throw light. I see no chance of deliverance. Through the mazy depths of gloom, I wade, Struck with the pestilence of rejection and hate. Hopes are now like shredded threads, Frayed away from a rope. I seek shade under a leafless tree. I hold on to a crutch as a prop. I curl up like a helpless embryo, Floating and whirling in lucid agony. Shutters of Distress is about to close in Before that, I should invite death. Lying in death is preferable to living with death. I must cross this cursed field. My tomb I see under a humble stone. I shall rest there, no more haunted by the fret of life. It could be just a mound of earth, My lone resting place in a deserted corner Where no one will ever visit this nondescript. Where no one comes with a bouquet of blooms, Where dandelions may sprout from cracks, To honor this mongrel of a man. * * * * * * In the absence of pallbearers and a hearse I totter carrying my orphaned corpse, And walk the deserted road, Inching my way to my grave.
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