Note:- The poem is about the defeating feeling where you only wish for death. I know that it is wrong to feel defeated and anticipate death. But the poem is about that feeling. A feeling is an expression which cannot be described as right or wrong.

There you can see me, stray on the road.
Astray from the path I had set for myself.
Cold hands didn't do as they were told.
Bold works could have gained those hands some eminence.
The triffling soul couldn't reflect the immanence of the great legacy.

Feet covered with blood were once to seek an exciting serendipity.
Now they only seek pity.
A bleary form was once in search in the resonant voice of success.
Teary eyes closed from exhaustion.
Bleary smiles given...