Tired

It seems that nothing is free
Just… this debilitating mental disease.
I fear that my life is rolling over
And everything I once held dear ceases to be.

I can no longer stand, I lose my composure.
This terrible shaking reminds me to seek closure.
Before I leave I’d like to end with a note,
One that speaks of my feats, but with disclosure.

And with sweet swords I shall deliver my anecdote.
It will be sincere, I will not gloat.
With truth my words will read with precision.
My last breath I will truly devote…

The delusions I envision.
Yes, this will be my mission.
And if I go astray–
I’ll die of morbid indecision.

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