Status

Wicked

The failure creeps in

Stricken

My grasp here weakens

Faithless

Take me to the heathen

I want nothing

And it grows by the day

Passion wanting

See my future slip away

And in the absense...

I crawl to the edge

But the darkness starts to drown

The air I try to breathe

Suffocates without a sound

And all the while I sit and smile

With these eyes set alight

You see my carcass wave goodbye

But it never joined the fight.