Untitled 08.07.03

Mind racing all over the corners of my deep dark mind

Within lots of trouble to find

Thoughts of death emerge from the shadows

It bellows I becon to it

I follow it, I become it

As I see myself falling through the ashes

My burnt soul crashes

And all that is left are my problems

Waiting impatiently for me to solve them

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Written at 12:17 on August 7, 2003.

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