My days have turned to grey. Somewhere, somehow, I’ve gonne astray. Each time I wake up I wonder, why the hell I’m torn assunder. The hours pass, the clock is ticking. I look around, no point in tricking myself into thinking there is something else. I search for a way to unexist. And see with dead eyes a way to unexist. I scrape and dig, inside is nothing. I’m just a whirlwhind, and I’m stuck spinning. I need no enemy. I break my own way I loose myself in my poisonous embrace. I can look into my own eyes, and see no sparkle, no point in moving on. Just a sickness, to which I am a pawn. This parasite stuck inside me, this hunger ever present