A Wasted Journey Poem by Justin Henry

I am sorry for my past selfishness
but darling its hard being filled with hope.
I'm not at all like you....
My optimism washes away easily
Nihilism purges my faith
don't pity me, I don't deserve it

I'm glad that I died,
but I regret that I never wrote my will,
and winter never dies,
and my icy breath drags you down with me.
I once hated it so much, I want it once again.
Will te sun ever dawn?
and the warmth brings no comfort
No comfort
No more solace
There is no comfort