Brutal Existence

The night is long my heart beats slow,

the daunting faces dare not show,

this darkened life that I must lead,

but no one thinks I can succeed.

A ghostly feeling takes control,

is it the reaper on patrol?

This smothered feeling numb inside,

that feasts upon respect and pride,

I see no way to fight no more,

along life's brutal corridor.

A ghostly feeling takes control,

is it the reaper on patrol?

This tortured bleeding soul of mine,

that cuts along the veins of time,

the silence is broken by a deadly cry,

my blood runs cold, why must I die?

There's no more time, not long to go,

the reaper hunts me high and low,

with no escape, nowhere to hide,

shake hands with the devil it's my time to ride.

A ghostly feeling takes control,

is it the reaper on patrol?