"Life is like a blackhole,
It consumes everything
And it self dies on itself.
For every experience,
That hole grows.
Consumes more,
And you feel more distant,
Lost, far removed,
Engulfed by its nothingness.

They say,
Just live...
But life,
Kills the life we live.

It is not when drunk,
We are great.
It is the day after,
When body and soul is struggling,
To survive the onslaught.

Worm's shall eat my flesh.
Yes, worm's shall eat my flesh.
We all shall fall into that,
Black unknown...
But the soul - if there is such a thing?
Where does it go?"