It’s the anxiety that leaves me restless,
Wondering what the after will bring—
It weighs me down.
I can’t decide on anything at all,
Just waiting…
For fate to speak.
I always strive for what is best—
For me,
For them.
Yet the one who did nothing,
Offers nothing.
He just sits, plays the victim,
Dragging others to his hollow space.
He’s been sinking
Since the dawn.
He pulls us toward his sorrow,
Toward uncertainty,
Toward the war within ourselves—
Not because he means to,
But because he cannot bear
The light in our laughter,
While he drowns in the thought
Of the failure he believes he is.