My Pieces

...tired

tired out, burned out, trodding on half asleep in a cold cold mist.

too tired to love, too tired to feel, too tired to think, too tired to stop.

And when it all ends, regret would flood my heart, for forsaking all that's dear in all my lethargy. But now, the little naggy voice at the back of my mind is too weak to sound, and i just trudge on blindly, heavily, leaving a huge part of me behind.

Smothering into ashes, disappearing into the dusk.

posted by Chrome @ 6:39 PM