The world is a giant. I am an ant. Life is a measurement, I am an object. An object to a neverending experiment. A tool, with a soul that has been taken for granted.

Day by day, I try to not be defined by hardships. Hour after hour, I try altering with my surroundings. I try to not despise my life, and love it. I try to not disfigure me, and stop the suffering.

It is a test that has never ever seen the triumph. For it is pain that love us, not the joy and laughter. I am void of my voice, I am silent and shattered. I am heaving for breath, I am living but tired.

The World is a tunnel. I am in darkness. There's no light I can harness, it's all dubious at best. I am agony than lives, and the company I keep, is oblivious to my screams, so I choose to let it be.

I have felt injustice, I have shrunk at the hands of malice; while quietly screaming, seeing myself reduced to pieces. I have gone to sleep at night, uncertain about tomorrow. I have lied down at night, wishing there would be no tomorrow.

And when I wake, I feel lost, as if I don't belong. Haunted by existence, and pain that's consistant. When I look at the mirror I see not what you see. I see death that was once life and a shadow of me.