4 Walls

These walls have grown tired of my hopelessness. They cry out as if they've taken on my weakened spirit. Have they not seen all? The voices, the ones come and gone?Will this be my legacy? My death is often flashed before me in different sequences. When will I meet my demise? My punishment soon coming, the hours of sleep have diminished, and I continue to grow more weary as months pass.
Above the clouds and into heaven he knows of my tortured mind, yet will he let me continue on with the rest of you for the small hope that I may one day hear my thoughts in the clear. My chance remains small, and my heart still entrenched in the things of this world. I see you taking me to the eternal resting place. Will it not then be cold and the eyed fastened shut, for no reopening will they have? My descent below I will not know of, nor of anything anymore. This remains my fate. And so these walls continue to weep with me until exhausted they crumble.
Written: 11-2-03