Here I lay me down to bed,
May the morning find me dead.

Broken since the day of birth
never found my place on earth.

Alternating cries and screams,
Licking wounds from shattered dreams.

Feel like I am just a shell
Held together by the thinnest spell

Who can cure a dying soul?
What can make the broken whole?

Gods have either no power or care
To relieve pain or offer repair

Id always feared there's only nothingness
But now I welcome my last breath