On My Last Legs
Today my only friend left this earth. Now i'm all alone again. I've cried my eyes out all day, now the room is silent. My hair is covered in a thick coat of dirt, my posture is that of a lizard, i'm crawling on my dying legs trying to suck the branches for some precious water, praying. I'm so sick, so tired. I never begged for much but today i begged, please god, please whatever, don't take this away from me. Fruitless. This just feels like the final straw, i surrender, i don't wanna be hurt no more. I've tried to believe that the struggle was something sacred, but does that really make it worthwile? If life is so thin and frail, why not just let it fade away?