Hopelessness

In the desolate expanse of my soul, A barren wasteland stretches, devoid of solace or goal. My life, a tale untold, a narrative ignored, A lonely cry in the wilderness, forever poured. Like salt, my existence is bitter and raw, A seasoning for the wounds that refuse to thaw. No comforting whisper, no gentle hand to hold, No pillar of strength to lean on, no heart to unfold. Tears, like autumn rain, fall and evaporate, Leaving behind a desiccated, cracked landscape. Who can hear my silent screams, my whispered pleas? Who can see the unfathomable depths of my despair, the shadows that clise? My life, a tapestry woven with threads of pain, A narrative of suffering, forever to remain. Was I crafted for this endless, crushing weight? A mistake, a misstep, a hapless, helpless fate? The ache within is a chasm, deep and wide, A ravine of sorrow, where hope lies fractured, denied. It gnaws, a relentless predator, devouring all, Leaving scars, a mottled, mangled, testament to my fall. My lips, parched and cracked, my knees, worn and sore, From supplicating, pleading, imploring, evermore. I cry out to the void, to the silence, to God, But echoes, hollow, unanswered, forever unspoken, unheard, unheeded, un...