Drips...Drip...Dripping

Drips...drip...dripping...
Soft, but sheer to mine ear;
Dreamful grips do solely slip, troth's again gripping,
For loud and clear, do I hear
A drip's...drip...dripping.

Whet cold slithers along frigid corpus;
Gelid serpent: Death's merciless servant,
Churning shivers doth remain torturous.

Fetid air breathes upon muddled senses,
Gullet like ash, throes of pain gnash
At sanity's thin devoid traces.

Life's crimson warmth, purged and trickling;
Cauterized slits, from shackled wrists
A searing torrenth, all consuming

Drips...drip...dripping...
Echoes keen, yet unseen
Is this drip's, precursive trip; for sentience is slipping.
Rhythms glean, sleep serene
From drips...drip...dripping.