I wake with a groan, followed by a moan,

I lay - as a man lays to die. 

I struggle to my feet, shrugging off my top sheet, 

And permit - the open coat of sheer cold. 

My limbs drag on the floor, crawling towards the bathroom door,

Too confused - for my soul to loose a cry. 

My blood's cold and slow, knowing a weary flow,

At 16 - none could own a body more old. 

 

Stepping into the shower, too wash off my crust's flour,

Hopeful - for hell's water's rejuvenation. 

(Even if hell is hot, I'm sure the journey is not,

Trust me - for my death is cold.)

My whole body remains chilled, my frozen core cannot be killed,

My bones quake - stone cold and just dead. 

I fight all despair, as my muscle's strength err,

Abandoned - as a man, without a soul. 

 

"Fight the temptation, beat the Devil's nation,

Make haste - for the battle's been won."

I promised to never yield, as I ran to the field,

But wo - for fighters must be strong. 

My legs began to fail, taking courage to no avail,

I stumbled - and my tumbling had begun. 

Losing my stride, I flipped to my side,

Mourning - never was my song so long. 

 

And from there I cried, about how I'd lied,

And failed - in every other way. 

I curled against a wall, my thoughts tumbled past the fall,

Defeated - I let out a sigh. 

And thus goes my life, completed with endless strife,

Painful - for I know what happens the next day. 

When I'll wake with a groan, followed by a moan,

And I'll lay - as a man lays to die.