Roots

Derek

The problem persists from the very roots of our existence
It was not created nor founded
Like a shadow, it is there always, foreboding in resistance
My family is some sort of crude disease purged upon the planet

I can feel it
In my traits
How I walk
The very way I act
A constant numbness

Passed from gene to gene, down to the very atom
No one can see it, but it's there
Sitting in my core
Settling in my veins

There is no cure
I am me
And it is me

A sickness brought to this world without desire
Just trapped with reasons to conspire
I can find nothing left to defend
There's just myself and the end