Weight of Sheer Insanity
I sit in my cell,
Cold and alone,
Waiting for the death angel to take me.
All that is left now is spirit,
Long since has my flesh decayed and rotted.
Trapped here for some unconscious reason,
Chill passing through me,
This worn essence.
Invisible chains weigh me down,
No food will suffice this hunger,
No water will quench this thirst.
Agony is to be my prize,
For what I do not know.
My screams make the night hollow,
Chilling the dead,
Afflicting the undead...
Murdering the living.
Torture, as I feel a searing hot blade meet my flesh that has forever been
They held me here for unreasonable torture.
They wanted another to suffer...
So why do I stay?