Cry To Spirit

The gloom seems to permeate the battles in my mind.

Petty victories and abundant failures.

Sunshine bounced back to oblivion by the opaque coat of emotions.

Prayers neglected to rot away in a chasm of sins.

Shattered dreams, bruised ego, battered will.

Eternity denied by the weakness of will.

Past; a picture of remorse and regrets.

Present; a mere existence of flesh, without colour or soul.

Future; a vacuum in the annals of thought.

Anger seems to elevate the essence of being.

But how long can it hold me together?

Time seems to be at stand still.

But time is an illusion, and illusions don't last.

Victory shall finally be rightfully mine. . ..

Mine; when I disintegrate into a million fragments of vibrant energy.

A kaleidoscopic fusion of fame and glory. . ..