Shadows of the Present Day

Slipping down, going fast,
Seeing fear slither through my past.
I am thrown, for I am the dice,
Thoughts being crushed between the vice.

Luck runs quickly, out of hand,
My mind slips out like ocean sand.
Morbid ideas swim through the mud,
Like my dreams, they end with blood.

The light that shines, now burns dim,
This sight in my eyes stained by sin.
The melodic sound of hope is rung,
Yet my world shall see this composer hung.