The Wall

There is nothing left. My pain is always mine alone. It's catching me this time, I can feel the void wrapping it's hand around my throat, my heart, soul, mind. I'm counting the days waiting for that last breath. Relief, will you come? Nothing, will you free me? There is no fighting anymore, this end that chases me. Only echos. I can hear myself and no other. Hope waits for me where there is no more desperate plea for safety. Hope waits for me with shut eyes and stopped heart. The hope that finally it will not be able to get any worse.