My Existence

 I rise from the dead
As Prometheus condemned,
The vultures feasting on my flesh and soul.

Day by day
These nightmares consume me,
Leaving a sour taste across my tongue.

I awake each day
With blood shot eyes and a vivid fears,
A bloody nose and a lack of tears.

Failure is not an option,
When redemption is never offered.

My hands are cursed
And all I touch
Shatters to pieces,
Never to be whole again.

Wandering through this forsaken wasteland
Where all I hear is human excrement,
The radiant black sun shining overhead
Burns my body
But failes to thaw my frozen soul.

I sit and wait to be taken away,
Scared and paranoid,
Not knowing who or what in the shadows lurks.

Saying to myself,
"Is it time to die yet?"
Over and over again.

Contemplting my death
As a blessing from the heavens,
Wondering how much more I mut suffer
Before myexistence is extinguished...

I die slowly
With a single tear
Running down my right cheek,
Knowing that I will soon rise
To live through it  all again.

And again...

"Is it time to die yet?"