Slow Decay

 Torn into slow decay
I’m left to shrivel away
Into the ruin
Into myself
Poison unto the souls of others
Ripping love from warm beating hearts
Pounding out life on the sacrificial stone
Beaten with the club of sacrificial bone
Sanity’s presence is still unknown
As into the festering flames of hateful fire I am thrown
And left to my own devices to devour my own dredging dissatisfaction
So fleeting glimpses of former fuck-ups no longer cloud my vision
And the entirety of my entity can meet its divine destiny
With the wretched dreaded inbred dead
In purity, surety and sour salvation.