Miscarriage Of The Soul

There is a void inside and no longer a soul, dementia has 
begun to take control.
Nowhere has become the other side.
The body is now prison, there's no way out (was there ever 
a way in?).
Shadows where wombs used to be, there is no escape from 
stagnating in despondency.
Seeing is deceiving and life just isn't there.
Remember the walk off the cliff's edge, still echoes of 
torment dwell.
Dead end passages of subconsciousness linger.