*Exhausted* Being exhausted Is more than a feeling Not really a state of mind More so a state of souls Enervated, worn-out, tired Not that I am not happy I can definitely not say this I am happy, though not chirpy Just that I feel a little low I feel exhausted They say I am worn out Drained, not physically, But rather emotionally down The enemy within, probing, If I was on my last legs It seems as though The world is dead And I have no one to talk to Even my loyal pillow Preferring tears than me I have nothing to say I would rather just not talk Even the life that I have Seems to be borrowed There is no certain tomorrow You can't hurt me now I found peace within myself Resigned to my fate But as I self doubt, Can I do my best ? I hope to rise, To search for my broken stars Even in the drawers of Innocence Wrapped in a scarf of wonder If I don't believe in myself, No wonder, no one will. Everyday it is like this I break down by the night Regrouping myself in the morning Repeating countlessly, Miles to go before I sleep. I will rise, my friends Even from my ashes For death and I, Are sworn enemies Exhaustion, an illegal tenant. You may keep me down But you can't keep me out That is my message To my dear exhaustion Hoping that it gets exhausted. ~Echoes Of Ink