If fate lends a deathly glare
Sparsely spent, grave and rare
Burden the embers with a fleeting memory
And off they’ll go, across the gloomy sea

It may seem a heinous deed
To desecrate those, graciously freed
I urge you, silence your loving greed
Then defer the footsteps of your precious seed

There is no more
Only tomorrow to attain
For sorrows past shall defiantly remain

Lark upon daylights threshold
And conquer the open, dashing and bold

I had a major panic attack today and while it was happening i somehow convinced myself that i was dying. In my head i kept thinking ” Oh no this it!” “Fuck, there is so much i have not done yet!” “Ive wasted my entire life!” “I don’t want to die! I don’t want to die! I don’t want to die!” In that panicked stupor i wrote this poem, despite feeling like my entrails were being torn out.