I have emptied my bank.
My thoughts,
Are no more.
My Skill,
My Power,
Lost forever more.
It is alright,
We all lose it in the end.
But why now?
Why in the prime of my youth?
Why now?
Why?
This is why I have trouble excepting God!
He gives me something,
And he takes it away.
Like a mother taking away the bottle,
And trading it for a sippy-cup.
I could sleep now.
Sleep now and never wake back up.
But never reawaking would show that I…

Gave up.

 
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