You worry about your insecurities
You know somehow they are
Eating you whole
Gradually, eating you out
Drying out your essence
But,
you no longer have the
Power to fight those demons
You no longer have the
Strength to scream out
your frustrations
So you swallow it all in,
devouring it all at a go
Like a diseased cow,
You let the plague infect you
After a while you begin
to look for a type of consolation
Maybe an egress , who knows?
You begin to search for release
Sad story, the method you
opt for was only going to lead to further doom
But you couldn't care less because your essence was already nothing but a dry plagued wind.
