the same story repeats itself, suffocating
shouldn’t bother, but it does
slowly doubt is building momentum within
self doubt rather
it may seem uncommon for an anxious mind but in essence i have no self doubt
i doubt the exterior world
question the reality of it
but never my own
because deep inside i know i am an old deserted building
visions i see in recurring bleak dreams
walls falling down and mold all over
fog penetrating coupled with uneasy silence
welcome to the silent asylum, silent hill
i have become old before even growing up
what a pity in the eyes of the other
none for me none for me they have screamed
unaware of those who listen and scribe down tales of self hatred
make it deep, slice that wound open
it is already dead and sore, won’t make a difference
haven’t you heard that dead things come alive at times,
come alive and wander in our world
undead… walking but soon enough they will become motionless corpses
then ghosts, passing ghosts
unseen, unheard, and …
FadingEther 