Death From Above

Rotting from the inner dwellings of the mind. Self-inflicted, despair bleeds from within this house, condemned to loneliness, lying dormant. A cold repulsion enters me, consuming my soul in a downward spiral. This misguided blasphemy leads to death from above, a full-on assault. Nerves of corroded wire hold this body together while the angels salivate over the unsealed wounds in a lustful obsession, feeding from its host, leaving only a vacant stare behind. With trembling hands, the shackles pull tighter, blinding me with pain. A sight, profane. The angels salivate. A lustful obsession.