POEM — In shadows deep, a restless soul does dwell, Lost in the murky depths of wasted

Original: i always waste my time

Transformed: In shadows deep, a restless soul does dwell,
Lost in the murky depths of wasted time,
Whispers of regret like tolling funeral bell,
A haunting specter in a realm of crime.

Each moment slips away like grains of sand,
Through fingers cold and numb with silent dread,
A prisoner of a past he cannot withstand,
In a labyrinth where dreams lie shattered, dead.

The void stares back with eyes of cold despair,
As hours stretch to eons in the night,
A ghostly figure trapped in his own lair,
Forever chained to echoes of his blight.

Oh, wretched soul, in darkness doomed to roam,
May you find solace in the shadows deep,
And break the chains of wasted time's dark tome,
To wake from slumber, from eternal sleep.