I fix my eyes on the swarm—black as night,
Summer insects gnawing at the edges of my fading profile
The air tastes of rot, thick with whispers and sweat,
While the land beneath me swells like a fevered bruise

Deep in the ditches of this mud-stained heart,
Where ghost lights flicker, and my thoughts twist
Choked by the roots of sorrow that run deep as blood,
I chase the shadows of anguish through a tangled thicket of fear

Faceless demons stir beyond the treeline,
Their hungry eyes glowing red with the promise of pain
They feast on the marrow of broken hearts,
Drawing power from the bones of the forsaken

Here, misery is a slow river,
And I wade in its depths, waiting to drown