The Raven of Death

The raven od death sits, and laughs at my life. With every breath, a bit of my hope leaves through my already lifeless face. Like a butterfly being eaten by a bird. I gave up my will to live years ago. I have no tears left. Neither alive nor dead, but in a constant state of misery. Sleepless are my nights, always being haunted by bad dreams. Never dreaming, never hoping, and always dreading what awaits me. No one cares that I live or die. All that’s left of me is a memory, already quickly fading. A cast away nothing more than a shadow. My voice is the murmur of the wind. Will I ever awake from this dream, or is this reality? The raven sits there forever staring. Its red eyes piercing my soul stealing what remains of my hopes and dreams.