Listen if you whilst

The horrid day
To face again
In degrading flame
It is I
Who stands week
Upon sorrowful shores
Watching the sun
Lingering in time
As if mocking
To prolong torure
My knees lay week
Burried in gravel
My eyes close
To imagine peace
In the land
Of beautiful fantasy
Though my senses
Indulged in choas
Feel,smell,hears
The present hatred
Never being right
Always being wrong
This is the curse
I now must indure
Never to bring
Life and wisdom
Though it is
Destined to fall
Crawl and shrevial