I live but not well,

My zest is dying

Effervescence is as bubbly as flat lemonade,

I live to exist – no more existing to live,

My personal motivation has set,

(I realise it set a long time ago.)

Inside my soul,

I am sour dough, a flat pancake,

The tide of hopelessness rises,

Drowning me a little more each day.

Inwardly

I feel tears of sad misery

For what was drifts further from what is,

Smooth bitumen to rough corrugations,

My physicality weakened,

My mentality becoming in a fog of blackness.

The beach is fading,

The lighthouse beacon evermore distant,

I drift ever closer

To being swallowed

By the Sea of Oblivion.