Summary; The enigma that is life
~ Medicine Of Despair ~
Words of dust float effortlessly in the air,
The clouded truth always weighing down.
As the oxygen morphs to medicine of despair.
And the beeping machines block out sound.
Suffering alone in the vacant, chilled room.
Her breathes flow carelessly from her lips.
Tiny moments fleeing all too soon
Bound only by the threads, and death grip.
This empty vessel, is so full of something else
Something so envied others urge to take
As the pale hands slither in, shadows of stealth.
This poor fellow traveled on a quiet mistake.
A suffering soul is not on the verge of death,
But rather too emerged in life instead.