Alas ‘tis the same, alas I know only sorrow,
I do not wish to see tomorrow.
This is my lot, to languish upon the soil,
My pain is eternal as is my toil.
Some days I long to see the night
And on others I see the light
But in the end ‘tis all the same,
I am consumed by self made shame.
The monster I deem to create
Is the beast of unconscious hate
That forms itself in my faded mind,
Losing itself to the rhythm of mankind.
I am lost and cannot be found,
Screaming, and yet I make no sound.