Vortex

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

This poem is about: 
Me
Our world

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