A sustained static gaze, oblivious to surroundings.

Empty, strained, unmoving eyes; Introverted, paralyzed

A burning mass of emotions denied, enraged by years of silencing.

An accumulation of feelings suppressed, returning to devour.

Bright rays of chaos, generated by subconsciousness.

A retribution by own thoughts; twisting the mind into fits

Fuelled with pains unveiled. Burning with contamination.

Set afire by disowned self-lies; they penetrate the eyes.



I... Am I the next? Self inflicted overload.

Thoughts returning to think me away.

I... Will I be reprieved,

or am I just awaiting the sentence of my exquisite,

internal machinery of torture



The turmoil arises, from the innermost core of denial.

Shining streams of putrefaction, reflugent with disease -

In outward motion to redress the balance by retaliation.

A terminal journey to relieve cognition of Ability

Minds lit like candles, by rejected senses and emotions.

Tearing flames, born in mind; Creations of self deception.

Strained, not to lose the grip - Humans locked in the new disease.



Ref: I... Am I the next?.......



I sense; The facilities of the bodily; Discorporated by the light

All my pleas; denied

By my psychological enemy

The inner light unseen



I... I'm deceived by my

Receiving eyes; - susceptible

to the endless killing-sights



Consciousness fails the grip. Substance now decreasing

Amorphous. Without shape - I'm vanishing; dematerialized

My own corrosive thoughts - Probes armed with acid tools

Disintegrated, I'm bleached out of reality

Scattered bits internally; My last transparent remains;

Floating objects inanimate; Spinning into my soul

Defeated by my contents. Tables turned, I'm a thought repressed

I'm swallowed into myself. Destination; nothingness



I... Am I the next? Self inflicted overload

Thoughts returning to think me away

I... Will I be reprieved

Or am I just awaiting the sentence of my exquisite,

internal machinery of torture

I... I've been the next. My self inflicted overload,

My neglected thoughts have thought me undone.

I... I was never reprieved

Now I know the sentence of me exquisite,

internal machinery of torture