fighting the beast

I'm feeling somewhat melancholy

    the world it seems would swallow me whole

I'm fighting to grasp my sanity

    and loosen the behemoth's grip on my soul

I'm feeling somewhat beaten down

    I'm flattened and tattered and frail

I'm fragile and so unstable

    perched dangerously close above the fires of hell

I'm clutching a pail that's rusted and empty

    the water has all run dry

I'm clinging to hope that the rains will come

    but there isn't a cloud in the sky

I'm standing on trembling ground

    the earth below me begins to give way

I'm slipping and sliding into the fissure below

    and losing the light of day

surely there must be a way

to losen your grip on my heart

the ever growing melancholy

that slowly tears me apart

surely there is something here

that wasnt here before

simply fighting to not give in

just isn't enough any more