So this is what was meant to be . . .
This eternal blackness I behold before me.
Why have I been discarded without reason or rhyme?
How can I be punished when I didn't commit the crime?
So this is what was meant to be . . .
This infernal nothingness that engulfs and embraces me.
I resign to the notion that I am about to die
Letting the void caress me . . . I can no longer cry.
