This used to be a happy place
At least so they say, I guess they have to believe.
So that if this is pointless now,
There would still have been a time
When it mattered, we mattered.

In this life though, this moment
Time has come to be of no essence
And cockroaches have made their beds in our hearts

How did this happen?

How did the world come to twist like this?

It’s like a footprint in the ground
Where maggots come to feast-
Something was done here
Something was destroyed
And from destruction comes the monsters-
Those who act like parasites
Feeding on the fallen
And I am but a piece of slowly decaying flesh.

We rot, and rot, and rot- until we're rotten-
And then, what happens then?
That I have not yet figured out...

...All I know is that life is a plague
That death just loves to feed on
And we let it, I let it.

Let it go.