I wander meekly barefoot in the snow.
The prickling pins crawl sparking urging through my hollowed bones.
When the future fled me, I'd nowhere left to go.
For Oblivion reigns and all I'm seeking's a semblance of control.
I am pure through and through save the plaguing woe.
No more or less a bag of flesh and bones.
My head's been throbbing from that nicotine withdrawal.
The brightest sun in ages burns the inked up, cluttered pages in their scrawl.
Now the severed ties like phantom limbs reside
In the caverns, ceaseless echoes drip and they dominate my mind.
Oh! Apathy, my cruel companion, author of my time.
I am pure through and through save the plaguing woe.
No more or less a bag of flesh and bones.
I am pure, pointless dust amid the starry night.
But I will shout into the void for all my life.
Now a sinking feeling has got me a bit detached.
I tried to sail from all of this aboard that rotting raft.
I tossed and I turned for weeks alone at sea.
I've fought for nothing but to feel my lungs breathe clean and deep.
Oh! Apathy, you plague me still.
You're deafeningly bleak.
Through the days and the doubts and the chilly nights,
I will try to seek that beckoning beacon of light.
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