Exhaustion eats away at a person.
It erodes the heart.
Time is laid waste,
and life is just a fog.
Exhaustion is the enemy of joy,
and the villain of love.
I want to more of it,
yet is often slips in uninvited.
Wrecking havoc all the things
that I cherish and I adore.
I wasn't ment for striving,
nor was conditioned for wanting.
It seems that all I'm truly good at
is living a silent and simply life.
In my life,
exhaustion has worn out its welcome,
and I wish to be its bitch no more.
(ps All errors have been preserved in honor of said exhaustion.)
(ps All errors have been preserved in honor of said exhaustion.)
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