~

Why’s life’s cold grip tightening around my frail neck
Stifling every word of my silent protest
As if I was but a rag, to be tossed about
Disregard my protest, my blood will quench the drought
soak the sand, feed the flora, be of use to someone
Immortalized eternally by martyrdom
To live and die, to exist or to cease to be
I find solace in inevitability 

Forge a future from what you are endowed, or kneel down
Yield to a fate uncontested,  in helplessness, drown