WorldCanBeGood

Supported by the cold wall Weakly he slumps back Pressed against his bare flesh Hanging his head in the black Quivering as his mind aches His withering figure collapses A skeletal ball on the hard floor As his every thought elapses Alone and never acknowledged Slowly deceasing, rotting away In the midst of not knowing About the outside in any way Locked away from everything The anguish and pain cascading As his mind caves in on itself Tears of tortured pain escaping Freely flowing he trembles Weak and small in the dark He crawls slowly on the floor Scraping a bleeding fresh mark Sobs fill the dead silence around A tear s