Demise Of The Soul

I don't understand
Myself,
I think I am becoming more unpredictable
To myself.

At times I weep,
At times I laugh.
Fenced thoughts
Cut in half.

My weaknesses in a bubble
Easy to pop!
My strength fading away,
A dying crop.

And the facade of the house
In which I hid my memories,
Seems to be getting deformed
By some falling debris.

I try to stay hushed but,
The door creaks.
As I peek into the past,afraid of the
Darkness ahead,not knowing to where it leads.

I am not afraid to die now
The light now seems like an enemy.
The dark is my home now
The dead I envy.