Descent into Nothingness

I thought my death would be instant,
Quick and cruel stab in glorious battle,
Broken back of orm storulfsson, to be sang for generations,
No, only tiring trials on my way to termination.

First the spirit was killed, by ending all hope of a future,
The heart was then broken by destroying my past,
The mind was then ruined by capturing the pesent,
To repeat task over and over, numbing, dehumanizing, desensitizement,

All is left is my body,
this poison works slowly,
Not the hot armageddon of summer that consumes all,
but the slow death and rot of September fall.

Syringe on my vein, not a slash in my artery
Sucking, seeping, siphoning, my energy.
A tap that leaks no matter how tight you turn,
Now so weak, they've even bought my urn.

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