I must retreat
To the me I left behind
To the life I had abandoned
Within the thralls of self-deprecation.
That glass enclosure calls to me
To drink from it
To consume what I had defeated
Revealing the weak soul I truly possess.
I will not ascend any more
To hells pit
To the bottom of every bottle
My destination is a cess pool of misery.
Death comes to those that make request
To suffer in perpetuum
To wallow in the sludge eternal
With more wallop than a gun to the temple.