I walk through days that stretch too long,
With hollow breaths, no will, no song.
Each dawn arrives, a tired guest,
While nightfall whispers, "Come, and rest."

I watch the world with weary eyes,
The hours fade, the sunlight dies.
A fleeting spark, but none to stay,
For I am waiting for decay.

What joy in morning, what hope in spring,
When every moment’s withering?
To live is but to slowly fade,
A shadow cast, a debt unpaid.

Time’s cold fingers, inching close,
A gentle grip, a final dose.
Yet still I wait, for what? For who?
The end is all I ever knew.