Life has gone and love is spent.
I’m rabid in my countenance.
I fall I fall I hit the ground,
The cycle spinning round and round.
And if you fell as hard as me
You’d be impaled
Far far beneath the sea.
But I can’t even fall asleep.
Irony loves company.
Be gone from me, I’m used to this
I’m holding life in balled up fists.
No chance, no chance,
The pattern persists.
If I could only wake when I’m over this.
Though by that time I’ll be long dead,
With memories of loss at stead.