Sweet Release

So it seems, that distant dreams,
have been ruptured at the seams.

Constant duress, that I try to express,
is merely a fleck, of the bitterness.

This lonesome heart, withering apart,
is drained of the love it would impart.

In this mind, hopelessly blind,
Hopes for relief have long resigned.

What can be expected? Abused and neglected...
this soul is an embodiment of the rejected.

I now wander, deeply I'll ponder...
about the years that I will squander.

For I am dead, for peace I have bled,
but feel no solace in the heart or the head.

Say what you will, mock me still,
laugh at each drop of shame I spill...

You are no greater, sooner or later...
you may even curse the name of your creator.

When I die, with a tear in each eye,
"finally" will be the last word that I cry.

All worry will cease...embraced in sweet release,
this weary soul...may finally know peace.