Some time in my life I must have slipped and fell
head met the concrete read my name in braille
blood seeped as I embraced the street
it was the lowest depths that I could ever reach
Experienced the darkest of dreams as I was forced to sleep
venturing through the bowels of subconciousness
along that thin line of nothingness
that crosses over into insanity
a sick representation unworthy of amnesty
sounds of calamity echoed the habitat
glimpse of faces distorted by burning ash
borderlining at the bottomless breach of life
I heard a cadence calling me to give up and die
categorized as something caustic but no chariot came
engulfed in suffering
from flames of past actions that call my name
all contained here and coexistent to collisions I revisit
scrambled in sights and sounds that's only found
six feet beneath the ground
To self I said
is this a conversation with the dead
and answered I to myself with no countenance I fled
from possibilities of such an envoy
delivering deathblows of ultimate woes
turning cold I froze the thought
of foreseeing me standing at my own plot
the stench of inexplicable rot rearranged
my derranged
horribled horrors that harbored this spiritual plane
redirecting my time laspse
as I moralized the question
Is death the nullification
To life unlearned lessons
ruling out all known factors as I seethe in sorrow
cursed forever knowing there won't be tomorrow...
head met the concrete read my name in braille
blood seeped as I embraced the street
it was the lowest depths that I could ever reach
Experienced the darkest of dreams as I was forced to sleep
venturing through the bowels of subconciousness
along that thin line of nothingness
that crosses over into insanity
a sick representation unworthy of amnesty
sounds of calamity echoed the habitat
glimpse of faces distorted by burning ash
borderlining at the bottomless breach of life
I heard a cadence calling me to give up and die
categorized as something caustic but no chariot came
engulfed in suffering
from flames of past actions that call my name
all contained here and coexistent to collisions I revisit
scrambled in sights and sounds that's only found
six feet beneath the ground
To self I said
is this a conversation with the dead
and answered I to myself with no countenance I fled
from possibilities of such an envoy
delivering deathblows of ultimate woes
turning cold I froze the thought
of foreseeing me standing at my own plot
the stench of inexplicable rot rearranged
my derranged
horribled horrors that harbored this spiritual plane
redirecting my time laspse
as I moralized the question
Is death the nullification
To life unlearned lessons
ruling out all known factors as I seethe in sorrow
cursed forever knowing there won't be tomorrow...
... please make yourself at home ... 