The Rot

Maybe I brought the Rot upon myself 

Infected by my own thinking

Infected by my own words 

The Rot isn’t something you can see 

as it lives and breathes inside of me

It planted its roots in my chest 

Its prickly vines, claiming my mind

Soon, there will be nothing but Rot

It blurs my vision

As shadows stand in the corner of my eyes

Nagging me, taunting me.

No longer is there truth in what I see

No longer is there truth in what I hear 

Every word that is said drips with poison

while a cacophonous choir 

chants louder than I can bear

There will be nothing but Rot 

The sun does not rise for me 

The stars do not shine for me 

The Rot has taken everything 

warm and inviting from me 

Maybe I sold my soul to the Rot

There is no joy in the life I knew

There is no joy in what I do 

Everything I do is to survive 

To keep the Rot alive. 

Nothing but Rot

The Rot consumes me 

My body is no longer mine 

With heavy bones and a spiralling mind 

I wait for the day I can be free

Free from the Rot

That Gnaws at my bones

And devours my soul 

Soon I will stand 

upon the blissful knoll

Looking down 

as the solemn church bells toll