In My Darkest Hour

It seems that a huge storm is brewing above my head, silently waiting to strike me with thunderous lightnings. The clouds above are no longer the white marshmellows I used to see everyday, instead I see clouds of black ashes.The grass and trees around were as dead as one could be, there isn't any greenary anymore. The air was polluted with the sins I've done and now I'm suffocating as I breathe in the air of punishment for my sins. I'm slowly losing sight of everthing around me as darkness seems to block up the light that reflects on the things around me.

I need to get out of the cage, I need fresh air before my mind's dead. I reach out for anyone but none would lend a hand. Through my Darkest Hour, and it feels very cold like the icy grasps of lost souls that lurks in the shadow of darkness, ready to execute their attack on vunerable victims and I've just fallen into their pit. Even in the darkness I humbly pray that one day, someone would stick his/her hand in the darkness and pull me out of my misery.