Man of broken spirit

Is this room cold or is it my soul,
Tonight I barely survived,
The only thing that held on is an evil deep down inside,
I can feel the change throughout my soul,
My steps, touch and thoughts have become unknown,
A battle begins,
I fight to move on hoping someday my spirit will become one,
My high spirit has been driven low with regards to depression my thoughts are cold,
I need a change and I need it quick before I slump further into my own pits,
Something to ease the pain and forget what I once held close,
I am a man of broken spirit I look at death as cold as it looks at me,
Fear and love does not run through my veins anymore,
What was never meant has bent the most crucial part of me,
I am a man of broken spirit,
Will I ever feel again,
Laughter could be my only friend,
But which or what would I really be laughing at
or with whom would I be laughing with,
Would I really be laughing or would it be a different kind of way my spirit would cry its pain away.

this is another one i wrote a very long time ago