Ill

It’s always darkest before the dawn

The wind is like a heavy veil

Over my head. The ice of your silence

Is a needle against my heart.

And what will become of my shaky hands?

They are sick of grasping fistfuls of nothing

Throwing glitter in the air

My chest is like a cracked wall

Unable to keep the cold from sneaking inside

Underneath the heavy rock you placed upon it

And I am guilty of something I don’t know yet

But my punishment is executed

Through unceasing springs of murky silence

I can only dream of being dignified with and end to this

I can no longer ring like a bell trough the night

While calling grace, for she won’t come

And the light you used to shed on me is dying out

What have you done?

Is it such a dread to have mercy on me?

Was I always such a pitiful parade?

Just as dreadful, just as nasty

Was I always to be forsaken?

Am I really just a dark star in your night sky?

I am ill, I am ill. I will forever be ill

And just like the changing seasons

I know I’ll be ill again

‘Cause you'll keep making me ill

I haven’t moved from the spot where you left me

And this is where I shalll remain.