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Self-Treated Decadance
Folder:
Dark Poetry Savage.
The beast that rips through me.
Lonely is this disease.
Somber.
The zombie that has taken my mind, leaving me hollow and unaware.
This isolated state.
Never ending.
The sickness that tears my veins apart as it slowly takes my life from me.
And it watches me die.
With a smile.
I never truly go...I only walk in detected evanescence.
And it can continue this torture.
This mind-numbing sense of reality.
It shall never kill--never cease.
It will watch with a smile.
As it destroys me.
Completely.
