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.