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Walking in a wasteland
Wind cutting through my lashes
Sand surrounding my soul
Sun beaming on my back
Yet there's no warmth to be had
A penetrating could deep inside
Weary trudge left a deep cut in my heart
Lost is the joy of hope.
Looking forward...
Yet only able to see the tracks of the past
Searching for a goal... any goal
Only emptiness to be found
When North is West
East is North
Yet all directions head South
Thoughts tossed to the mirage of love
This false pretense of solid happiness
Heavy bags blackened by the sight of this and that
A weight tied to the top of my head
Salt strained upon my face
Feet left in an undulating yet unfaltering motion
The dark... the only destination
Light just a product of yesteryear
Just one finger... one hand to grab onto
Only to phase past a smile
This life a maze of shadows
Keep walking backwards
Towards the mass of existence
To be awake is to be asleep
To be asleep is to be alive
To be alive is to energized
So that must mean
Am I....
Am I dead
A ghost
A spirit
Do I exist
I must
This sting must mean something
It must mean anything
What is this feeling
This sloth like ray of tarry.
This... tiredness
Am I this state
I am this being
This awareness of self
My existence is Tired
I Am This
I Am Tired.
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Think positive every thing will be fine. It's just a passing phase
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