The wrath of existance

My being in total weakness stumbling upon harsh lands of digested sickness and quick sands draining realities of faded mirror visions potraying the seas faceless masses ghosts in the oceans of souls. It hits me unaware and trembles me before vultures who breed my deepest guilt and so i wake before the sun hoping to stare it down but the jouney of memory cracks my cold feet and brings me to my knees to taste the death of night in the morning sands and that's when it hits me a day is just but a prey to my pain