In the morning it eludes me;
The clawing at the walls
that line inside my head,
The screeching in my ears
that tell me I'm not dead.
In the day it seeks me;
The trembling of its fingers
that yearn to feel my skin,
The fiery yelp of madness
that is slowly running thin.
In the night it finds me;
The howling beast inside
that cages only hate,
The succubi daunting me
that pushes down its weight.
In my nightmares it ends me;
The darkness enraptures
that all which is left,
The destined Nothing,
that is born from the bereft.
