I do close to nothing most everyday
endless indignation impedes my way
Inescapable depression my Kryptonite
so draining it negates ability to fight

In a paralyzed fetal position I lay crying
attacks of panic from thoughts of dying
Decaying inside whispering walls
frantic for someone to hear my calls

Personal demons often infiltrate my mind
ways to avoid them I am unable to find
Faith is gone but hope shan't reach dead
will to live hangs by the thinnest thread

I've become consumed by sorrow
inducing me to dread tomorrow
Home depicts a lonely prison cell
'Save me' from my personal hell

In this utterly wicked world I don't belong
life the alleged "Gift" turned out horribly wrong