Running away from the agonizing death
that's nibbling on my soul,
Eating away my hopes and dreams,
choking only on my will to live.
The heart was the starter of this feast,
living me numb and empty.
The guts was the main dish that
tasted too bitter at the end.
Deserted was my being, living me
no other choice than to lean on my feel.
Ideals eaten to the core,
the digestion can only unleash the essence of me.