I am tired, I am torn,
Worn down by the endless storm.
Every step feels twice as steep,
Every promise hard to keep.
The weight is heavy, the air is thin,
A battle I can’t seem to win.
I reach for hope—it slips, it fades,
Like light consumed by endless shade.
The world moves on, but I stand still,
Trapped inside a shattered will.
The whispers tell me, soft but clear,
“Let go, give in, just disappear.”
And yet—somewhere, deep inside,
A voice remains, too faint to hide.
Not a roar, not a scream,
Just a whisper, just a dream.
“Hold on,” it says, “just one more day,
Even stars are born from gray.”
And though I break, though I bend,
Perhaps this isn’t quite the end.
By-averielee3
