Shadows of Existence

I dwell in the shadows of existence
Neither living nor dead I be.
The pulse of a heart in resistance
Kept on a brink of sanity.

As I look down into madness
And certain loss of life
The tears that flow with sadness
Cut like a pointless knife.

I yearn to fall into the dark deep
Let go of this dull enigma.
Leave the traces that have made me weep
Lose a label's hopeless stigma.

The razor blade cuts like ice
The veins seep a dark red
This time I did not think twice
I belong with the dead.

© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.