He is losing his grip
on solid ground,
becoming drunk from the
taste of irresponsibility.

He is growing numb,
giving in
and delving deep into a stupor,
entering apathy.

Bound
in nothingness,
devoid of purpose,
Shrouded
in cynicism,
Shrouded
in nihilism.

He has lost his will
to fight for perspective.
And his sight: distorted,
twisted beyond recognition.

He is growing numb,
giving in
and delving deep into a stupor,
entering apathy.

His existance with failing reason,
consciousness bleeding dry.
Bound
in nothingness,
devoid of purpose.

There's an itch , begging him for pain,
buried deep inside, he is digging.
Ripping skin apart, scraping for blood.
Grief, guilt, hatred: in control.

Nothing matters but pain and pleasure.
Gluttony, adultery now his true desired treasure.
Live like the dead and die all the same.
He hates all that he is, he hates what he became.

A life without truth,
without God:
He is bound
in nothingness,
devoid of purpose.

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