I’m full of
the *******
that resides in my
corridors—
these hedonists that slice
at my skin and my soul.

I’m old and tiredly awake.
The ******* won’t let me sleep.
They bite my guts with greedy teeth.  
I become water…I become grain…
sowed by sadism and adultery.

They transfuse
into me and
I evolve into
something horribly new.

No more my artistic aura,
my classical sense—
Just a specter of gloom
and dust floating
in the structure of a self I can’t really recall.

This is my holy downfall.