The Backbone

How do I sleep, when all my blood, it boils?

Watching as all the effort, it goes to spoils.

 

How do I breathe when fire steals the air?

When the driven are reduced to despair.

 

How do I feel, when all is gone, slumped alone?

The final straw, reducing to rubble, the backbone.

 

How do I cry, there’s no more tears to weep?

It seems the reward no longer meets the upkeep.

 

How do I pull sanity from the world so real?

A heart bursts, and no longer can conceal.