The Living Dead

When life seems too hard to endure,
And death seems too hard to accept,
we become the living dead.
Emotionless; we've had
enough for a lifetime
already in our baggage.
The line becoming thinner each day;
I am losing the grip over my reality.

Living hurts just me;
Ghosts of past, present and future
haunting me in circles.
Faces of those,
who were once the core
of my life.
Guilt over sins not mine.
Or were they?
Death could bring misery
to not many, but a few around me.
But, their pain could kill me
another million times.

If the mask on my face could
put a smile on their faces,
and happiness in their hearts,
I will choose to live with the mask;
the mask which hides
the rotten corpse of mine.