odds stacked against me

mystierous mystery, im shrouded in a mist of deafeat,
a virctoius victory, so close but yet still out of reach,
enimies embreached my front lines to the root of my seeds,
the fire i add to my demons only gets hungerier when it feeds,
i tried to stand up to my odds but only to rise then fall,
i caint move forwrd when my backs stuck against the wall,
depseration is heard when i speak for ever noun i pronounce,
energy is drained from my body, red colored fluid taken by the ounce,
denied by my cries for help, i have no one to help but my self,
my self caint even help my self, dehidrationg from crying for help,
a look into the fear in my eyes will only let you glance at my pain,
i should be charged with animal cruelty for all the beasts ive slain,
this time is different, my time in this time has gone to a stop,
now if only grandfather time could fix my biological clock












no time left in my biological clock,
every tick that goes by gets close enough to stop,

__________________
If picking your bugars made you money
then my finger would always be in my nose