hard to swallow

Little pills make me hollow
now as I attempt to swallow.
My pride is hiding in the hallow
of these pills manafacturer's
promise of divine virtue.

This medication's told me,
promised, that my characther
will alter, from Jekyl
to Hyde in no time, if only
I continue to take them daily.

While I wish I could say
that I agree with their theory
of medication being a ploy;
but without the vow to agree
to a daily routine, then I
got nothing in me, but fear
for my demise. Specifically,
the lack of caring rather
I live or die, tomorrow
or today (got no where to go).

Once upon a time, I recall,
my eyes reflected back at me
with that of a diamond store's
allure. Now even the sparkle
in my eye has faded to dull.

I heard that this life we share
ain't really just chance's will;
but an exam to test our morality.
That has me pacing around my
room in a daze; fore almost too
late did I hear this tale.
Now I fear it is much too
late and there is nothing to do
in order to obtain myself into
Grace's Longing, again; so
then I bite my nails as I try
to figure out a way to sew
what I have reaped, but I simply
cannot connect my thoughts together.

Not without rest; but 'cos of this
test, my dreams have been at best,
terrible. They're a festival
showing off my trival
and tributes, in the shape of movie's
playing on an old 8milimetre reel.
When I wake, it's never
on time and my bed is forever
wet with sweat; 'cos this fever
has me imagining the torture
that eternity seems set to
give me. Was I set up from the
start to endure a life unworthy
of salvation? I await for my
death bed to hear from the
horse's mouth, find out via
first hand if this fable is true.