Demons Abound

Sometimes i worry the future,
Most times i regret the past.
Always forgetting the present,
Knowing it will never last.

Finding no reason to suffer,
Or to dole out the anguish i do.
Happiness never lasting,
Those who find joy in me, few.

More cause have i to die,
Than that which tethers me here,
I have only one more obstacle,
And that, dear reader, is fear.

That which i have suffered,
And yet to suffer still,
If it does not kill me,
Nothing ever will.

My light is growing dimmer,
And soon, I'll fade away
But im still here for now,
I must suffer through today.

And when today is over,
A memory of the past,
It, and everything else
Was never meant to last.

And so i leave you, reader,
To mull over what's been said.
I must become something,
And that something must be dead.