There is an empty space in the place where a helping hand is needed.

There is a blurred oblivion where understanding needs to be seen to be acknowledged.

The sickness is rising, spreading like wild fire

In a place where fantasy is passed as reality.

No concept of time except that it is passing by

Counting how long it takes

For a darkened soul to break.

Piece by piece it falls apart;

A repeated cycle that won't end until the chill of solitary dies

But until then,

I continue to fall.