Nightfall's Prison

Existence in fragments

Darkness dwells — the night has fell—

I long for peace
amidst the typhoon of choices:
career paths, jobs.

I just want to sleep.

Vast informations — about each
yet vague, a never-ending mist.

The body — a prison
limiting a soul to the beyond,
suffocated, engulfed in a mere
rib cage — hundreds of bones,
watchful guardians — locking
every exit.

An exhale — the only escape,
temporary, bitter,
a remainder of a psychological hell,
tortured, held by the chains of biology.

Hope — biting my ankles,
reminding me of what could have been.

My mind — slicing my throat,
a guillotine made of nihilism.

Yet my body screams — searching for purpose,
a framework to keep going,
clawing at every belief, only to find ruins,
that my mind shattered — dissected,
logical systems exposed,
incoherent in my brain.

The reasons to live
are the same to die.
The choice is personal.

All is left:
ruins
and a bloody

scalpel