After a lot of hustle once again you have reached a dead-end. From where you can't see anything but the darkness.
As if every inch of your skin is being pulled to the extent it can no longer sustain pain.
Your heart feels heavy as the rocks of regret fall from the cliff.
And you find yourself asking the same question again. Is it over or just getting started?
And the demonic voice inside your head echoes back, it is just getting started.
But you try your best to resist and decides to pick up a pen instead.
Scribbled a while as you thought it would ease the pain.
But it only grew stronger with each stroke and finally disappeared after making you insane.