My thoughts are oft of melancholy hue
Due mainly to an existential bent.
Enveloping myself like morning dew,
They drag me down an unending descent.
I feel my sanity slipping away
On fragile feet, escaping with each breath;
Abandoning me to the coming day.
Accepting fate I devoutly pray for Death.
But will Death come in time to rescue me?
I fear of its capricious nature most.
Just like some parasite -- Insanity
Has sunk its teeth in me, its humble host.
Too late! It's penetrated to the bone,
And now this insane creature is full-grown.
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