arien musings

As the veil of Nyx falls over me,

I feel myself soar free

Grateful to that efficacious poison,

I sink into blessed oblivion

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They tug at his feet and bind his arms

They lie low, plotting and planning, a whole swarm

Dragging a weary body and a mind over which he has no command,

He is grateful to finally feel closing over him, quicksand

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Lost in the mountains high

I whisper to myself

This is the way to die

Lost in the desert dry

I tell myself

I shall not try

Lost on the seas high

I console myself

The end is nigh