To be a wandererm a being no passage.
THe constricting venom that runs in my veins,
a sharp stone crushing my already broken back,
all the fiery flames burning my flesh profusely.

They say things, "You gotta be somebody,"
"find what makes you happy,"
"Get up and just do it."

I have no words,
my eyes transfixed on the wall,
the darkness lurches beneath, waiting to take me away.

In the blackness that still consumes, there is no light,
no people to save what is left of my life.

My eyes drip acid,
and my stomach turns and churnes a wretched stench.
My heart, losing with every stride, falls into the cold water..

The world will not know.
It's time for me to go.....