Of Heart and Reality

Well done, dear reckoner
For you have successfully
and single-handedly
Destroyed my will for survival
Now, I think, I'm nearly suicidal
I'd like to congratulate you
For I haven't felt like this again for a very long time

To feel lower than a street rat,
An insignificant doormat
Once again I have been reminded
that a person like me,
if can be called a person,
Is unworthy of dreams

Banished from the land of make believe,
I am not even allowed to speak of its righteous name
What more if to step into its glorious gates
Longing for a shelter,
Wasting in a corner,
I am pleading for the scythe master

But don't fret my precious friend,
For even a measly creature like me knows its place
Its here, where its enough for me to see your face
Right across this river I made out of dread
Where my hands are chained and my lips ever muted