Lost a will to speak, looking meek
absent of life circles around like I'm smelling reek
of joy coloured grey within a tortured mind that reidentified everything as bleak
where every peak is counted feet of how fast is the ground I can meet
to look like mincemeat upon the concrete
so I stay in a panic stricken seat, with a view of candy lines on repeat
like deja vu of what it's like to constantly lose the game of trick or treat
a meet-and-greet where I lost everything sweet
a mistreated mind born for an athlete with a body of a deadbeat
where my inside runs empty but yet I feel incomplete
I wonder if death's heart beats as I pray for deletion to a soulful retreat,
there I go again, with the repeat of, slowly losing everything sweet.