Withering Ressurection

Shadowy fingers of black work to stain the fading horizon. My story is etched in the sky, Starting a new chapter in the darkness, And my soul is revived from it's slumber. Though the grave has a grip, Still my soul fights to the surface, Reaching and screeching, and writhing. So now I tell you this constant struggle, This parched desert and pointless strife, It holds nothing for me But endless agony. So why have I been chained To this place where I endure such misery? Where I seem to be in endless trouble? Let me be free from this evil abyss, And let scary take refuge elsewhere. But no, here I am, A victim of gravity Moping around this dear planet. But wait an idea! The wind pulls at my hair. It led me to the ledge, and I jumped, yes I did, I jumped just for me, and I know that I won't be missed!