• In the brisk coming of dawn, a light shines in my mind, reminding me not to listen to it. But my heart's stopped caring, and my soul's whispers sound like lies- So who can one trust, if not the very fabric of their being?

    My thoughts are dark, and my dreams have hidden from me, while reality is bleak, and untrustworthy.

    My spirit cries out to escape my wretched, and diseased body which longs to go back to the earth. My shadow is disgusted. It wants to leave me, and my smiles are diminishing.

    The sun scorches rather than shines, and the moon's face is turned. God hates me, and the Devil is too ignorant- So who can one turn to if not these?

    Blood rages white-hot if it gets too close, and my love is fool's gold. The fear of death has not shown its face until now, neither has the will for it. But they're here now, battling. Their powers too great for me to care which wins.

    I try to hold on to sanity, and my hands are bleeding now. But all I want to do is let go, and allow sweet oblivion to take me over.