You were supposed to lay me down in green pastures
Next to a frothy river with water so cool it would stop your heart for a moment,
As if it was unable to comprehend the chilly substance quickly slipping down your throat.

You were supposed to keep me from drowning in despair when the rain poured down upon me and threatened to suck me deeper into the endless sea of lost souls, using a large boat to keep me afloat.

Now I sit on a plywood raft and look around at the warzone behind me.
I am stuck in a disgusting, black, muck, surrounded by dry land that cracks and groans from the lack of water.
The sun beats down upon my back as I feel myself begin to sink in the quicksand.
Once again, like many times before,
I put my headphones on and slip further out of conciousness.