Struggling and suffering
In the chains of my own flesh.
I’m lethargic and exhausted,
But my mind feels very fresh.
I try lifting my fingers,
They’re the easiest by far.
But lifting even dainty things,
Felt like lifting a car.
I’m trapped in my own body,
A prisoner of my bones.
This darkness is eternal,
And I’m crushed by heavy stones.
It’s lonely and its dank in here,
And my body is made of lead.
If I knew that it would be this bad,
I’d have been cremated instead.
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