ever before my eyes and persistently out of reach is the happiness I see in others;
the dreams of mine they share in my absence,
gloating in their mirth at the simplicity of their gain
while I toil, wading through the ever-thickening mire -
it blinds me and fills my soul with a dark emptiness I'd once o'ercome;
swiftly now it sucks me under, heedless of my gasps, my flails,
choking, pungent lukewarm globs of failure gag in my throat,
the vomit of despair churns in my stomach;
I am drowning in the putrid aftermath of my own demise.
what hope is there in this cheerless gloom?
all valiancy is torn to ruin - blood and tears in its wake.
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