What does a man do, when he has nothing to lose? Does he give up or does he find meaning? What should a man do when faced with a ''demon'', will he run or will he fight?
As time flows by my watch is still
11 pm it tells me with the faintest chill.
Time is no threat, mind is no threat
Corruption and disease have conquered my hill
This poem was never meant to be
and I won't be held in debt
I will not follow her nor he.
My own life shines as a beacon of hope
it's not drugs, but it feels like dope.
I can I will escape
I need to rid myself of this ugly estate.
It is told that the dimension will shift
I hope that soon I can catch a lift
To leave here and to see the light of day
I shall no longer feel dismay.
This poem was never meant to be
but I owe this to thee.
