PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Attempt to swig my brew, transforms to a mug full of tears
That symbolize the macabre, pain inflicted for many years
I find myself lying, on a needle ridden floor
Tormented to throw the towel in, admit I can’t take it anymore
This body is now a corpse; I've become the living dead
Basic functions keep it breathing, but a void consumes my head
I refuse to call this living, as my soul it cannot feel
But all the while you mutter, your insanity cannot be real
And I’ll tell you one thing doctor; you’re fighting a losing case
And I’m afraid that all your efforts, will only go to waste
So pack up your mad concoctions and admit you cannot win
Your therapy it cannot save me, as there’s nothing left within
Surrender to your defeat; focus on those that can be healed
But take one thing from this story, and acknowledge the beast is real
And dancing with the devil, doesn't appear to be such a threat
I’ll happily commence the waltz, and make the dear sir a bet
Who gladly takes up the offer, face lights up as he wins it all
While in a rotting pit of misery I submit to the fatal fall