Shadows creep,
Slowly feeding on the weak
Broken and bleak,
Now, are the words I speak
Wither into darkness avast,
Joining a mass
Then break like glass,
Until each moment has passed
Listless and afraid
Falling, into dismay
Put myself out on display
Until I wither away
Into this mortal coil
As the disgust begins to boil
Days and nights, my mind will toil
A mind of rot and spoil
Schizophrenic Poems, Short Stories, and Thoughts 