And because these feelings overwhelm me,
Such feelings are worth considering.
Feelings are like gems. Like pearls in the gloom.
Feelings, feelings, feelings.
Maybe this is what dreams themselves dream of —
For I can feel my stammering heart's tempo.
Hence a slit of light warily peers into infinity,
Thus I stab the darkness with the dagger my soul is made of.
For my antidote is me, myself, my own.
My trigger.
Carbuncles on my inner sheath which throb and ache are mocking me,
Making me feel both lost and doomed.
And I sense these tears which dye my whiteness into scarlet stew,
Conquering me. Trashing me. Killing me.
A slit of blood warily peers onto my arms,
It comprises an endless river of anguish and woe.
And darkness stifles my hope and smothers my joy,
Since there are only ashes left in this eternal nightfall.
My vacuity evaporates to an ocean of pyroclastic hisses.
Fire is now put out, nothing prevails,
There is no longer pain inside me. Just emptiness.
I know I am dead.
Addah Monoceros.
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