Apathy's Breath

Whats left
From yesteryear
Is more akin
To a shallow grave
Decaying after thought
Of existence

Maggot half eaten corspe
Not worthy of pity
Kick the dirt over it
Say no prayers
For it's soul
Just walk away

With each breath
There's either a struggle
For life
Or death
Dependinding
On the level of apathy

Warped and twisted view
Blurs the path
Sturbborness
The mountain
Always the obstacle
To navigate