With white knuckles wrapped round a wheel
, while I start to steer in a senseless stupor
, so I slowly start  to sink into my subconscious mind.

There I find I'm So sick of silence, that
In a demented dance with my own demons
I ask them why I won't let go of what once was.

"You drink the poison with a passion
, blurring the lines of punishment and pain
So only self hate can remain"

So secretly I shun what I wish to say so
the vestiges of  my valour can rot away in vain,
Like the living corpse that's left with
long lasting lashes as battle scars
I bare as a badge for the broken.

So in fear I flee the tormenting truth
That I now have to hear
As soon it is clear
My own web of lies led me down a road
of Slow and Selfish Demise.