Everything has been ripped from me,
I walk all alone.
Surrounded by inky darkness,
No one to say hello.
I tried not to test fate,
It’s something you can’t love, only hate.
But by then, I had gone too far,
My shoulders were pressed with that weight.
Now I feel like Atlas,
Holding up the weight of the world.
The pain cuts into me with ferocity,
Like I’ve been ripped and then hurled.
I feel pressed in at every side,
Crushed like a small tin can.
If I want to run away and hide,
Can I still be called a man?
Oh man, this feels so bad,
My head feels like it’s been hit with a rake.
At the cup of suffering I have sipped,
However, a cheerful smile, I can fake.
Is there no end to this pain?
Will no one grant me a reprieve?
Or am doomed to walk down this lane,
Falling apart until there is nothing to retrieve?
From the frying pan into the fire,
Can things get any worse?
The circumstances are so dire,
You might see me in a hearse.
I’m walking through the lane of misery,
All alone and no one to give me company.
Much more darker than a winery,
This is what I feel, in a summary.