Fallen down,
down upon cast of yield words,
it has become thus as so,
no turning back,
choking on thin air,
drugs the mind in thinking ill,
lost deeply in a sea,
so dark,
knowing of a way out,
a bright light is not seen,
far on so,
the grasp to hold onto will,
has lost its way,
a way that was never fully clear,
yet no right way is,
just walking,
running,
crawling for the right ways,
befalls on this,
just choking on thin air,
when all really,
the answer was to breath,
than holding it in,
and thinking to savor the words,
will do more better in silence,
than boast,
just breath,
find your footing,
and maze out the darkness,
the light will come,
and than you finally break away,
from this coma,
and go back,
to whatever it was,
that was worth more than,
pitch black.

 

 

 

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