Grey is not really a subjective word
Describing the malaise within.
A colour does not do it justice
In how ugly it truly is.
The beauty dimmed in my eyes
Happiness a fleeting thought
Every pain filled second drags forever on
As I die slowly inside.
Hating every fibre of my being
Dispossessed of all that is good.
A shell filled with tormented cries
Of loathing screamed into the void.