Dearest,
Please break me from this shell I writhe in
Deemed fit a lonely hell to die in
And place not my body into the cold, hard ground
Until such adequate environments could be found
To reverse this decay I so endlessly suffer
From binding my soul not to another
But rather living, dreaming, in suspended animation
And breathing heavy in fastidious fascination
Of that to which I've unwittingly turned my nose
Breeding a heart beat that slows and slows
Until I become something beyond recognition
That walks this road decrepid, to perdition
So turn me, stop this dead in it's tracks
And forgive me, as I learn how to ask
Of that for which my heart doth pine
And wither these cracks, vesitges of time
Find me a road, a life I can strive in
Heal these ravaged bones, that I may feel alive again
Yours Truly.
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