The Unseen

My dogma, a trait of this war

Leads to an endless oblivion

I can't see beyond this fixation

As it gouged my eyes out

I'll fall

But never hit the ground

Abolishing gazes surround me

For I am not atoned

Pranayma, now help me breathe

Gasp the last bites of air from this cellar

My lungs constricted by anticipation

As I prepare to enter the other side

I'll fall

But never hit the ground

Constellations disappeared through suffocation

Air vanished through the hole

Left to rot eternally in dimensions beyond unreal

Hell is around the corner and already here

This is the autobiography of a murderer