Nothing here is ever as it seems
   O' Loathing, O' Self-pity
Curse thee as thy dance within my dreams
Invading whispers sent floating from the start
   Stopping all thoughts like a traffic in the city
Pressing my chest against my beating heart
Lethal to the lungs as it ***** at my soul
   Brain splatterings artistically unpretty
Yet, welcomely I embrace the voided hole
Longing for the coma that is sure to appear
   and to be sure, I'm not being witty
For the black would surely remove the untraceable fears
Relieving me of this awful self-loathing
   self-doubt, and self-pity
A swift defeat is the only solace for this whole thing
So this is how it appears to approach the inane
   I'll make sure it's not too gritty
But before I go, I must say, don't you go insane
For as I lay my head for one last rest, it seems
   I'll remember times before your lying bitty
And be assured to breathe in quivering sweet dreams