I lay cold and damp

The flame guttering

Like hope in the distance;

I pray feverently


Begging for assistance

But no one comes to bring salvation

I see them pass,

No glance

Just guttural condemnation;

Their hands do not reach forth and grasp

But still exists futile anticipation

My life withers

As these creatures walk on;

My eyes shut;

Darkness not greater

Than the one left behind greets

It's almost comforting;

I'm near peace.