Tired Of Continuing Onward

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Faroz was sat on the top of the Amber Tree, feeling a gentle breeze against his back as he wrote the following poem throughout that day.

“The ravens call my name
Beckoning me ever closer
Death has drawn her bow
I’m within her aim

I don’t know how
Just that it will be by my hand
I’m sitting in this empty field
Only waiting for it now

I cry with no end in sight
This sorrow not stopping
I could’ve done so much
But I can’t stop this plight

I miss you with all I hold dear
This poncho’s become frayed
The very fabric torn to shreds
Down my cheek goes another tear

I scream out at this world
The madness contained within me
It festers beyond control
With life I’ve become bored

Corruption has taken its hold
I'm not sure if I'll make it out of here
Trapped within my very own mind
Ambitions far too bold

I’ve given in, I’m taking the fold
I hope you finally get it
For I’m never to be any better
Everything feels so cold

I wanted to show the truth
But my tongue's been cut
Not by one but by myself
This traveler's given up on the ruse.

They're all waiting for me
I want to join them
Wish some luck over
Their faces is all I want to see

So now I look to my side
This wound's opened up again
All I can do is hope and cry
And say that I tried”