Awful, But Not Seen [Deserted, Alone And All I Was]

Invisible.
Sick.
Sinful, but, sinner?
Hated by everyone, hating everyone?
Deluded, disappointed, distressed.
Never to smile or feel joy,
Inconsecuential is the blooming of pleasures
Arsoned by fears, by the memories,
Of those who where, of those who are, of those who I will never let be.

Subliminal, inferior, accepted?
Forgotten by even light itself,
I wander about years and years,
days go by while I am still here,
twisting in pain,
never to be heard,
never to be seen,
never to be saved again.

Trapped, locked away,
inside this massive four walls,
with almost no space
in which I crawl in mourning,
for what I once was, is now dead and gone,
marching away in its own fields of joy.
[No joy, please, please, no joy]