It's an empty world for people like me,

Too tired to even breathe,

And terrified of being freed,

From the prison inside my mind.

From my heart's black hole in which I hide.

Is there treasure for me to find,

Or is it just a vortex endlessly deep?

Into it I place my hopes and my dreams,

Never to be seen again,

Sacrificed to the demons, my friends.

What do I get in return?

Just a comfortable place in which I burn.

This vortex is a dangerous place for people like me.

It sucks the life right out of my soul,

Makes me beg not to grow old.

So I jump, dive into the abyss,

Trusting that the demon, my assassin, will not miss.

Jarred Shah

8/25/2020

8:05pm