Doom's Day

I am diagnosed with a sickness that's called failure

It dominates my body slowly but surely

Slowly, but it creates havoc to everything it hits

Surely, for it saves nothing inside me.

Time will come I'll be as limp as a wilting flower

As damaged as a city after a tornado

As dilapidated as an abandoned house somewhere in the forest

Too weak to move but too tired to rest.

Someday I'll be nothing but ash

One with the soil, with bacteria, with the trash

Closer to the earth I once taken for granted

but far to the people who made feel unwanted.

"Will I be forgotten?" is not the question that bothers me the most

Because people only care when someone is already lost.

What I fear the most is the answer to the question, "Will I leave something worthy of remembrance?"

Because all my life all I wanted was acceptance.

Acceptance for who I am, for who I am not, for who I will be, for who I can become.

Maybe I will. Maybe I won't. Maybe I can. Maybe I can't.

The possibilities are endless but my will to live is finally coming to an end.

I am diagnosed with a sickness called failure

It takes a toll on me everyday

I stopped asking for mayday

I gave in to its calling.

This is hopeless. There is no cure.

I am hopeless. I am doomed.