I am living at Death's door\
I wanted to live some more\
That is why I never passed to beyond\
And now I'm a wanderer at this hour\

I am killing at War's front\
Against my willon this manhunt\
I wanted more from this life\
And now I'm a murderer and shunned\

I am eating at Famine's dining room\
With a hunger that leads me to ruin\
I want more to eat, all I am is gluttony\
And now all I do is consume\

I have Pestilence at my core\
Anyone I touch sickens, more and more\
I didn't want this for anyone, not me\
And now I caused this horror\

Out of control, I'm not me\
An apocalyptic creature, a zombie\
Created to **** and leaved the world free\
Of this curse that is known as Humanity\

The Autumn baronies have fallen.
A culture of flames, brilliant and bold,
Against cold indifference of time.

What is a King, with a broken crown.
Vermilion leaves sail across pools of crimson.
Cobblestone stained, forsaken name.

Death divine, dancing kindred spirits,
Haunting the halls of Royal ruin.
Longer still, grows the silence.

The neon green frog leaps
Unto it’s last bastion of
Sludge.

He thought it was water,
But I know full well
A ******’s been administered.

So ushers in, the acrid scent of
A life wrought nothing more than
It’s surrounding pestilence;

A chaos concocted,
And alchemy rendered man;
For we’ll break this world,

But at ends, the world will hold us,
For our crimes and
For our contempt.

(Five parts, all are listed here.)
War
My mind battles my body
Tearing apart the threads of what I live for
An eternal fight that can never be won
Time running out
Nothing seems to save me
Part of me wanting to live
Part of me wanting to die
Neither side winning
Yet neither side losing.
And time is the only constant.
But time is the thing I have the least of
Time is the thing that I’m losing
And no matter what I do,
The war is always raging.
The battle never ending.
And that’s the way my life feels.
A constant battle of good and bad.
A constant battle of the will to live
And the will to die.

Famine
I dream of happiness
Yet everything good
Is torn away from me
By depression
Never feeling good enough
But needing something
To hold onto.
The hunger of that thing
Rips into my heart
Gnawing on my soul
Eating everything it can reach.
But nothing satisfies its appetite.
Of the thing it needs most.
So I let it consume me
Sense I can’t control it.
No matter what I do.

Pestilence
Depression leaks into my soul.
It covers every part of me with a black, consuming acid.
It wants to steal me away slowly.
But it isn’t merciful enough to finish the task.
And it isn’t merciful enough to surface to the outside.
Where others can see it.
So it consumes my soul,
My mind,
My body.
And enjoys my suffering.
The darkness fills every corner of my body.
And filters out the light.
Taking my body over so even I can’t control it.
Using myself against me.
Showing me my weaknesses but not my strengths.
And somehow, I’m still here despite the mental disease worse than any physical one.
Because it can’t be cured with any antidote, no matter how strong.
No matter what I do, the darkness seems to win.

Death
My heart has stopped working
It doesn’t care about beating, the darkness has already stopped it from wanting and willing to live.
My brain has stopped thinking
The darkness won’t let it think anything but thoughts of darkness, why think when you can’t.
My face has stopped smiling
Nobody believes it anyways, the darkness can’t be seen, but my laugh has already been terminated.
My soul has stopped living
It has no reason to, not when the darkness has stolen its faith of a new beginning.
My body has stopped sleeping
Why sleep when all your dreams are filled with nightmares, when all your nights are restless to begin with?
My mind has stopped caring
It doesn’t need to, not when the darkness has already shown it that each thing it loved can be lost.
My eyes have stopped crying
Why cry when you have nothing left to care about? When everything you loved has left?
My body has grown limp
Why move when you have no reason to live?
My body is just a machine.
I’ve become a mindless automaton controlled by the dark depression I’ve fallen into.
My fingers have stopped typing
Why type when you’ve nothing to say? When the words run dry, when everything you say is just mindless babbling?
Why live when you can’t?
Why live when you’ve already died to begin with?

The Angel
The darkness has filled me.
I’m close to the end.
One more step and I’m gone.
One more step and it’s over.
But then there is a light.
A light more beautiful than any other.
More vibrant than the sun.
A star is nothing compared to the way the light shone.
And the angel approached me.
It tried to remove the darkness.
It couldn’t.
No matter how it tried.
So instead, it comforted me.
But the angel was whisked away from me.
Right as the darkness was losing its strength.
And so I was forced to watch the angel leave.
My angel. My hope. My love, removed from me.
The thing that gave me light in the darkness was taken away.
The end of my tunnel was closed off.