I am the hunter before the harvest.

The new day's dry thirst of something fresh
Turns for the worst in the want for flesh.
A single dose could not be enough.
Counting the seconds prove to be tough.

Constant yearning reaches starvation.
A wick of drool blackens to old ink.
The horrendous hunger writes a tale
Originating straight from my mouth.

Past pleasures are painlessly gloated,
And the wrong feelings were forgotten.
An addict to the intervention,
Convenience replaced true affection.

Kept in the corner, left out to rot.
Stripped all your honor, left out to die.

Above all, you deserved a swift death.