I wasn’t okay when I wrote this, but I’m doing better now.
round and round and round we go
grasping for something to save us
finding only smooth obsidian walls
colder and colder and colder we descend
naught but the shrinking sun above us
soon a pinpoint as we fall
suffocate in this darkness
smothered by this arctic chill
isolation will kill us all
mindless we wander
the blind leading the blind
in self-fueled morose we become enthralled
macabre melodic melancholy
mend this mess we’ve made of ourselves
glamourous pain you applaud
round and round and round we go
spiral in and out of control for eternity
progress, once a sprint, slows to a crawl
Tyler Gohde 