Destined to become the Sisyphus of my generation
Push
Pull
Lift
Strain against these insecurities
Shortcomings naturally bestowed upon me
And for every day I feel I get closer
three months pass where
hope sets
leaving me in the night
where all lights are artificially
Cold.
And so
shivering with the frost of time on my mind
I rest
Weary of staring down my reflection
And fighting the world
Just so I can keep looking
I rest
And yet
This rest
is so very temporarily insignificant
Can I not even remember my sleep state?
Can I not enjoy those precious moments inside my mind?
Can I not enjoy those precious moments inside my mind?
Alas,
It seems this isn't to be so..
And I feel this enervation settling in
Becoming cozy amongst the muscles of my mental
Feelings pass like shadows through a fog
But I can't seem to shake
this overbearing underlying
sentiment of fatigue...
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