Killing Me... Ever So Slowly...

Time,

What are you doing?

What have you become?

A villain‐

but not by your own choosing,

it's under Despair's ruling that you've been directed to bend every minute against me.

An instrument of torment...

your own form of torture,

a monster...

within the walls of my own mind

or at least...

the shreds of what used to be.

Time,

you've become another weapon in the arsenal belonging to Despair‐

and ever, so slowly...

over your course,

my thought life has become a battleground‐

no more a war of attrition,

now a fight...

for my life.

Like a rook on a chessboard,

your straightforward motions are so predictable, but‐

still not something I can stand against.

From the instance in which my eyes awake

to the very moment my temple is laid down again,

dread rises with the sun, and I can only wait for it to set once again...

for the night to fall and all light to run away once again...

for my sight to fade black and my consciousness to leave me yet again...

hoping that it may not return‐

because...

it is with daylight that chaos comes and goes

and in the light of the moon that sorrow broods.

Time,

you're killing me...

ever so slowly

by the command of Despair,

you have called for morning after morning of mourning,

evening after evening of weeping

years and years of tears unyielding

but...

if I could free us both...

from what trouble Despair continues to summon...

to just...

pick up a piece of the surrounding rubble,

and throw it at the reflection in your hourglass‐

to stop us both...

the beat of what used to be my heart

and the swirls in your grains of sand

our prison cells...

to free us both from the icy grip of those callaced hands‐

the control exercised over you and I

a broad brush that paints only in the color black...

drowning both you and I

in this black sea...

even this, I have made my own ink, but

to no avail...

I cannot keep up with this stream

nor my face above these waves

I cannot escape such a treacherous grasp.

Time,

you've been forced to witness

my wish to breathe my last‐

oh so dangerous, but

likely not my last...

turn your face if you must‐

Time,

for it was never you, but

Despair...

who has been ever so slowly...

killing me.