Existence

Hues of life black, white 
With shades of grey 
And a silky path where barren woods abound 
With nothing audible 
But an eerie silence 
The silence... 
Waiting for us to decide and produce 
A sound to break its deafening monotony 
The blind turn, the slippery road 
And the spikes worn out 
Going down the dungeon of abyssymal depth 
Trying to get a foothold 
Latching on to the wild overgrowth 
But nothing on the hands 
Except drops of soiled dew 
The abyss never ends 
The darknes never goes 
Something inside grows 
A hope, A fear 
The struggle goes on...