Held Within the Grasp of Despair

Sweat drops in beads between his whitened fingers Pressed with all might against his forehead Questions rear their ugly heads in hydra like fashion A thousand sleepless nights have preceded this moment A thousand uncut wounds have preceded this need Before the day is done, sanity falters Inescapable internal torment Every action equally apathetic Depressing, overtly manic Held within in the grasp of despair Watching from the sidelines, as his mind slips further from grace, with increasing resolve Helpless to arrest the plunge, he knows what he's become. From this day till the end of his days