My insides rot and wither to dust as I lust and must go on to infinity.
The world blows by in riots of fire and ice chills my veins to keep me alive.
I strive as I try to show the world that it will only burn once it finds connection.
From that to the grave I pave the world with these words I display.
I am in a frame, of time to see a whole point but not a picture, a victim seeking blame.
Schema slows to a halt and it is not I who can foretell your future but the stone path you forever seek.
For regret; my latitude and reason conduct a storm of eternal pain to conflict the living.
It lasts to make my pleasure and stave the tears I cannot shed for a characteristic called pity I cannot gain.
My faith in surviving the day concludes my simplicity and anxiety, a river chasm, free of nothing.
The chains that drag me through the world as I set fire with friction, screams of agony, and euphoria.
I envy those who want nothing.