Slowly crawling down the hole
I came from
A voluntary return to that which drains me
completely
Fading breath
Thinning blood
Twisted body parts
and all that is just effects on the surface
A challenge of what you are
through self-inflicted wounds
It will not make you supreme to those
who you see as inferior
Where everything is in the thought
Hunter of souls who will empty you
of all that you were and you become
one of the shadows on the windowpane
In the confused thoughts
regarding the meaning of this
Empty on the thought of seizing
Stand nailed to the ground or change
what stands in my way?
The rules of whom?
Whose life is this?