When All is Lost...

My hate, subject of its own contagion,                             
Though my inner thoughts will never reveal;                   
Conceptually, my whole life's abrasion,                           
Because all of my wounds will never heal                         

Black-pitted horror is all that is seen                                
Every day throughout perpetual pains                               
Never a soul able to intervene;                                         
Internal, scarcely blood courses through my veins           

Forging my scars, cutting through my struggles,              
Dare to ask, will these lacerations repair?                        
Fractures and bruises lead to broken knuckles,                
Here I cannot be saved from my despair.                          

For weeping blood is now the fatal cost,                          
Forever completely gone and all is lost.