The Nameless Dark (2015) – Languor

Cold is the path through this forest of grime.

Black is the soil and the future ahead.

Pestilent winds whirl the ashes of time

And carry the dust of the dead.

My heartbeat resembles a low, distant knell

For I know that there is no beyond and no light,

That I shall go nowhere, not even to hell,

That I shall only cease to exist when I die tonight.

I am kneeling here, coughing amid the dead trees,

Bound to succumb, scenting blood on my breath.

Hardly able to breathe all the ashes and grief

I am waiting in languor, waiting for death.