Dear Lord
I ask oh lord, what shall I give?
for you to get me rid of this hell-hive.
I fail to feel grateful of kin,
since every breath equates to sin.
Oh dear mighty, guide my way,
I'm young and gullible at your step to pray.
It pains too much to bear,
I can't even quit out of fear.
Help me, guide me, let me out of this;
if death is the solution I'll take with a kiss.
It's illicit to exist, yet every morning I insist;
that maybe today it'll be less pathetic, but alas!

© bhavya_sheisvintage