A blade slowly crawling,
Swinging towards my chest,
I see fire reflected in its steel face,
Taunting me with the sureness of death.
Madness, I tell myself.
I'm going truly mad.
For the things that are coming to eat out my life
Couldn't hardly be all that bad.
In reality, they aren't even there,
My mind imagines them worse than they are,
And people who I once loved,
Laugh at me from afar.
Faceless creatures grope at me,
From chasms underneath the earth,
Their fingers digging into my soul,
Their eyes cloudy, filled only with murk.
The blade creeps ever closer,
My mind is going mad,
And yet I feel a sudden calm,
A surge of hope, for which I'm glad.
My death is looming over me,
Lowering itself onto me,
And sadly I begin to see,
My spirit will very soon be free.
