Tired

A helpless hand emerged from the sand. My nails were flat of the pointless scratching on the walls around me. I screamed, but nothing happened. I'm not even sure if anything ever came out. I suppose not, anyways it wouldn't matter. It's not there's gonna be miraculous rope taking me out of here. My I tried screaming again, and i keep strugling, and trying to scream. This time, something definitely came out, but not from me. A hand grabbed my wrist, and i was being lifted, saved. And then, with a glimpse, that same hand dropped me and i sunk into myself, again, and no scream I could make would be heard. No matter of how I strugle, I kept going down. So, why just don't give it up? Why don't I leave it, and let myself go down with the power of my weight? So I did, and now, nothing change, instead, I'm feeling desperate, I'm feeling alone, hate and anger and all my wrath coming out of my own skin. I should rise, I shall rise! I shall be unstopable, I shall be undefeatable, but I'm not now... So i guess I'll just go now, and whine about it, maybe tomorrow will be a better day, maybe I'll forget about this or won't. One thing I can promise: I'm tired of this...