Untitled

Though I claw and fight and scramble upward, I continue to be dragged, pulled, and ripped down down down to the
pits of sorrow from which I emerged. Completely alone. Numb. Faint feelings of hope remain, but are stifled
from the suffocating darkness in which I am enveloped. Only I can save myself, but it seems that my attempts turn
to failures and only dim the spark that once blazed inside my heart. Giving in is not an option and I see my
escape--even the means to succeed--but I am too weakened by the oppressing attitudes of saint slayers that turn my
firm grip to a mere memory. Once more, I am clouded, distilled with negativity, doubt, rage, helplessness, and
indifference. Will the light ever return? More importantly, will I?