Cold, cold, cold life of mine
That has neither felt joy
Nor heard praise
Down the rabbit hole
I've gone to my thoughts' endless ends
Battling the ghost of my life

A life scarred with ire
And an unattainable desire
Which I still admire
But will never acquire

The demons in my head
Laughing at the life I've led
As I lay on my death bed
This realization fills me with dread:
"So this is to be my end."

© Omega O.