Fuck this edge I walk upon;
despite the curtain being half-drawn
the pain is sharp, my feet they bleed
I suffocate before my need.
Curse this room that is half-light
and once it was so very bright
now only shadows seem to loom
in this, once sacred, sleeping room.
Fuck this life that now I mourn
infernal darkness hath been born
blood I tread throughout this space
betrays the smile upon my face.
Curse that I am stuck right here
within this conscious, sharp and clear
enrobed in egoistic shroud
to gaze at fields, left still unplowed.